When I Needed You The Most
by Lyr942
Summary: When Hermione returns to Hogwarts for her 7th year to find her best friends have turned against her, she is distraught and finds comfort from the most unexpected person. But what happens when their love is challenged? What will they do to be together?HG/D
1. Prologue

**A/N – Hey guys and welcome to my story. I hope you enjoy it and please don't base your judgements of me on my previous stories because, to be honest, they are rubbish. I'm quite pleased with this one and I hope you will really like it. **

**Now, I know the prologue is quite short so I'll make a deal with you…. If you review I will post chapter 1 on Thursday. How nice am I! **

**Anyway, I just want to say thanks to my wonderful beta larubinita who by the way has a BRILLIANT Hermione/Draco story called The Beast Within if you're into that kinda thing. Anyway, please review, it will make me so happy ******

**Prologue**

Hermione Granger walked through the halls of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry with a purpose. Her eyes sparkled with fire and determination and her long, dark curls bounced with every purposeful step. During the six and a half years that she had spent in this school she had grown familiar with every corner and every passage and this was a great advantage to her in this moment. She was so focused on her task that she just allowed her legs to take her where she needed to be. She paid no attention to the other students around her who were quick to jump out of her way as she walked by. This was not the Hermione Granger she had been when she first walked through the school's massive doors as a first year, hands trembling but body filled with excitement. This was not even the same Hermione Granger who had squealed with excitement upon receiving a letter the previous summer indicating that she was to be Head Girl for her seventh and final year. No, this Hermione Granger was a girl hardened by circumstance. Her face showed no emotion, only a cold mask, and she radiated a power that made even her fellow seventh years step back occasionally in fear.

It was getting late, just before curfew, and the lamps that lit the hallways were dimming. The little sunlight that remained outside glinted off the rapidly melting snow which covered Hogwarts' grounds. Had the feisty brunette been paying any attention she no doubt would have found the view beautiful. As it was, however, she paid it no heed. She had more important things on her mind. A deathly important task that could help save the life of the only person in the world who she loved, the only person in the world who loved her.

As she approached her destination she did not even allow herself a moment to take a deep breath. She could not let her mask or demeanour waver for even a second. She stepped before the portrait of the Fat Lady and stated the password.

"Ah Hermione dear, how are you?" inquired the painting, "I barely see you anymore. Where have you been hiding yourself?"

Hermione laughed inwardly at the picture's ironic use of the word 'hiding'. She had no idea. "I know, Madam, I apologise. I have just been busy with other matters. Anyway, the password is _hippogriff_."

The Fat Lady narrowed her eyes slightly at the once so friendly girl's stiff and formal response. There was definitely something different about her. She shook her head and allowed her to enter.

Not bothering to thank the portrait, Hermione climbed into the Gryffindor common room silently and did a quick scan around. It was almost deserted at this time of night as it was a weekday so most students had an early start in the morning and had already retired to bed. However, Hermione smiled slightly as her eyes rested on the person she had come here to see. She knew he would still be up, gazing into the fire looking as though he had the weight of the world on his shoulders. He also didn't look as though he had noticed her presence. This was good, it gave her the advantage.

"Potter," she said sharply. The dark haired boy whipped around quickly at the sound of the unexpected voice and Hermione was momentarily pleased with herself at having startled him. He looked surprised for a second before regaining his composure and narrowing his eyes into a glare.

"Granger, what do you want?" he asked, the hostility dripping from his words.

Hermione lifted her head up high and maintained her blank expression, completely managing to hide the stab of pain she felt through her heart at the look her ex-best friend was giving her. _Come on Hermione,_ she chastised herself inwardly;_ you've got to be over this by now. He means nothing to you_! She shook her head to help clear it and regain her focus.

"I need your help," she answered, her voice was cold and uncaring.

Harry Potter laughed, "And why would I want to help _you_?" His emphasis on the word 'you' expressed intense disgust, as though she was merely a 'thing' not worthy of his attention.

Though he had meant this as an insult it helped her more than he would have imagined. _See,_ her inner voice continued, _he is an arsehole. Why would you want to be friends with him?_ This thought gave her strength and she smirked a smirk that reminded Harry so strongly of someone else that he could no longer see the girl who had been his best friend for six years.

"Because Potter," she spat, "it's mutually beneficial."

Harry tipped his head to one side slightly, examining the girl, no woman, before him. "Go on," he said, "what's this favour?"

To his surprise Hermione smiled, though it didn't quite reach her eyes, "I want you to help me to kill Lucius Malfoy." At her words, Harry lost all control over his features and his jaw dropped.

Thirty minutes later, Hermione exited the Gryffindor common room feeling quite pleased with herself. _Mission accomplished,_ she thought, _well at least the first part. _She jogged down two flights of stairs, not caring that it was well past curfew. She was Head Girl after all. She spotted the door of the room she was heading for and, with one last look to check there was no-one around, she turned the handle and slipped inside. She blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the dark until she could just make out the shapes of the unused desks that were piled around the walls but she spotted him immediately.

He stepped forward, close enough so that she could see the look of concern on his face. _Aww,_ she thought, _bless him. He was worried about me._

"Are you okay?" he asked quickly.

Hermione smiled up at him, "I'm fine," she assured and relief washed over his features.

"So," he continued, "what did Potter say?"

"He agreed," explained Hermione. "It would seem that he hates your father almost as much as we do."

Draco Malfoy nodded stiffly and pulled the girl before him into his arms. As he breathed deeply, taking in the scent of her hair, he couldn't help but smile. He knew that she could look after herself but Potter was very unpredictable these days. He had wanted to go with her but she argued against it, saying that Potter would be even more unlikely to agree if he was being threatened by Draco while she was explaining the situation to him. She was right, of course, isn't she always? But it didn't make him any less worried about her or any less pleased that she had come back to him safely.

He took her head in both his hands and moved it off his chest so he could look her in the eyes. "I love you, Hermione," he said, pushing every bit of his heart into the words in the hope that she would understand how he was feeling.

She smiled brightly, "I love you too, Draco." With that she allowed herself to relax for the first time in days and let herself be drawn back against her boyfriend's chest. He held her like that for a long time, until the sun was rising again behind the Forbidden Forest. Both were thinking about how different their lives had become over the past six months and both were thinking that regardless of all the troubles that they had faced, they wouldn't change things for the world.

**A/N Hope you liked it, please review!**


	2. The Heart Breaks So Easily

**A/N – Hey guys, I know, I know, I'm late. I'm so sorry. I completely meant to post this on Thursday night but then my hamster was really poorly so we got all caught up in looking after him. **

**Then I went to post last night and when I looked at it I wasn't happy with the chapter and wanted to add some bits. Consequently, though my original draft of this chapter has been beta-read by my wonderful beta la rubinita (Thank you) there have been bit added that haven't been because I wanted to get this out as soon as possible. So if there are a few spelling/grammar mistakes please forgive me.**

**Also, thank you all so much for my reviews. I was only expecting one or two and I got . It made me so happy.**

**Anyway, I hope you like this chapter. It will explain why Harry and Hermione were on such bad terms in the prologue.**

The Heart Breaks so Easily

**Chapter 1**

Hermione stood on her tiptoes trying to see over the crowds on platform nine and three quarters. She was searching for her two best friends, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. Though the plan before they finished their sixth year at Hogwarts had been for her and Harry to visit the Burrow for a few weeks during the summer, this had never happened and Hermione had missed them both terribly. A sense of confusion surrounded her about why their plan had not been brought into action. She had written several times to both of the boys during the previous few months but had never received a reply from either of them. This subsequently had caused Hermione to spend numerous hours scouring the Daily Prophet for news that something terrible had happened but there was nothing. She was actually grateful of this because she knew it would surely be reported if anything had happened to either of the boys, particularly Harry.

However, she was still confused about the lack of contact. The calendar that hung on the wall of Hermione's bedroom in her parent's home was marked with large red crosses that counted down the days until she would return to Hogwarts and find out for herself what was going on and she had woken up that morning excited that today was, finally, that day.

So here she was scanning the crowds of nervous-looking first years, dragging trunks as big as them, and tall seventh years greeting friends with smiles and hugs. She spotted the platinum blonde hair of Draco Malfoy and saw him nod in agreement at something his father was saying to him, though his expression was less than amused. Hermione watched him for a few moments, trying to work out what was going on. He was stood too far away for her to be able to hear but it appeared as though Lucius was giving his son instructions that Malfoy wasn't too happy about.

_Odd_, thought Hermione, _Ferret-Boy usually dotes on everything 'Daddy' says_. Before she could consider this any further, however, she caught a glimpse of red in the corner of her eye and spun around towards it, searching for the tell-tale Weasley hair. It wasn't Ron though it was, "GINNY!" she yelled towards the younger girl who had her back turned, "GINNY! WAIT!" Hermione thought she saw her only female friend pause for a moment but then watched as she proceeded to climb onto the train. _That was weird. Maybe she just didn't hear me._ Hermione shrugged. _Oh well, guess I'll just see them later._

As well as checking that everything was okay, she was eager to share with the boys her good news, that Dumbledore had appointed her as Head Girl. She had written to them, of course, informing them of her achievement the minute that she had received the letter but, again, there had been no reply. Hermione had considered the possibility by this point though that there was a problem with the owl mailing system and so her friends simply weren't receiving any of her letters. Perhaps they had sent her numerous correspondences also that had simply not arrived. They were probably as worried about her as she was about them.

Her new postion meant that upon arriving on the Hogwarts Express she had to go immediately to the Prefect's compartment to give out instructions for the journey. Hermione brightened at this thought. _Of course, why am I wasting time on the platform? Ron is a prefect. He will be there. _Smiling she boarded the train and made her way to the front compartment, checking that her Head Girl badge was straight on the way.

Hermione pushed the door of the Prefect's compartment closed behind her and looked around the room just as she felt the train leaving Platform 9 ¾. The space was magically enlarged and was filled with students from every house, all proudly wearing a silver badge on their chest with the letter 'P' stamped on it. She smiled at her fellow students but was inwardly disappointed to see that Ron had not yet arrived. A quick glance at her watch showed it was time to begin the meeting and she moved to the empty chair in the centre, next to this year's Head Boy.

The Head Boy was a Ravenclaw called Benjamin Thompson whom Hermione did not know particularly well but from what she did know she liked. He was tall, with both dark hair and eyes and a kind expression. He was known in their year for being incredibly intelligent and having an uncle who was one of the founders of St. Mungo's hospital.

"Hello everybody, I am pleased to see you all here today. I am Hermione Granger and I am your new Head Girl," she started. Benjamin continued introducing himself also. As he began, Hermione noticed Ron slip silently into the room and stand at the back. She smiled and attempted to catch the eye of her friend but he kept his head down and avoided all eye contact.

Hermione narrowed her eyes in confusion. What was going on here? All summer she had been continuously telling herself that nothing was wrong and that there were perfectly good explanations as to why Harry and Ron (and even Ginny on one occasion) had failed to answer her letters, but now she was beginning to get seriously worried. There was something not right here, and Hermione needed to know what it was.

"Anything else you want to say, Hermione?" her attention was snapped back into focus as she realised that she was being spoken to by her counterpart, and looked around to see that her fellow prefects were looking at her expectedly. She had been so focused on Ron and her current situation that she had paid no attention to the meeting at all.

"Erm…" she said, trying to disguise up her lack of concentration, "No, thank you, Benjamin, I think you have covered everything. You will all receive notes in the next few days arranging a time for our first proper meeting of the year but for now you may go." At her words, everyone stood up and began to make their way to the door to carry out their appointed tasks (that she hoped Benjamin had given them). Hermione jumped up quickly, hoping to catch Ron before he left. Her way, however, was blocked.

"Hermione, I would just like to say how much I am looking forward to working with you this year," Hermione looked over the shoulder of the Head Boy, just in time to see a mop of red hair leave the compartment. _Damn it_, she inwardly cursed and turned her attention back to the boy in front of her, "and I want you to know that I am taking this responsibility very seriously, as I am sure you will be too."

"Well, thank you Benjamin, I am looking forward to working with you too," Hermione smiled, trying to appear as though there was nothing wrong.

The tall boy beamed down at her, "Oh, it's Ben. Only my Grandmother calls me by my full name. Well, I guess we've got work to do," he finished and left room.

Hermione followed soon after, determined to hunt down at least one of her friends.

Her mission, however, turned out to be futile. She discovered that during the journey she was so busy that she didn't even have a moment to eat, let alone find her friends. She found herself consoling distraught first years and helping a boy, who reminded her eerily of Neville Longbottom, to find his pet cat. She was also last off the train once it arrived in Hogsmeade as it was her duty to check all the carriages for any students who may have, for example, fallen asleep so that they didn't get left behind.

She walked into the Great Hall, having missed the Sorting, tired and starved. She felt better though when she saw the heads of the two boys she had been searching for all day bent together at the Gryffindor table whispering intently. She approached and crouched down between them, placing a hand on each of her friends' shoulders.

"Finally!" she exclaimed, joyfully, "I have been looking for you two all day. Where on Earth have you been hiding?" Harry and Ron looked at each other, gave as slight nod and turned back to their food, ignoring Hermione completely and shrugging her hands off them at the same time. A pang of hurt jolted through Hermione's chest and the smile vanished immediately.

"Guys?" Once again, she was met with silence. Not about to give up she turned to Harry. He was usually the more rational of the two boys. "Harry, what's going on?" her voice was filled with pain and confusion and her eyes began to sting as she stared at the face of her dark haired best friend who refused to look up from his food at her.

Harry muttered something under his breath so quietly it was barely a sound but Hermione heard it loud and clear, "Hermione, leave us alone."

She took a shaky, deep breath and turned to the red-head. "Ron," she pleaded, "please tell me what's wrong." Silence. "Ron?" More silence. "Please, Ron."

The tall boy who had been her friend for six years, who had copied her homework and who had saved her life on several occasions spun around and looked at her with a look so full of hatred and anger that Hermione felt as though she had been physically pushed backwards by it. She lost her balance and fell from the crouching position she had been in onto her bottom on the floor.

"What do we have to do to make you get the point!?" he spat down at her, "We don't want anything to do with you anymore."

"You don't mean that," replied Hermione, shaking her head in denial, hoping more than anything that this was just some kind of cruel joke, "This isn't funny, guys".

"We're not joking and yes we do mean it," shot back Ron, "Leave us alone…" he lowered his voice so only himself, Hermione and Harry could hear, "Mudblood!"

At his words, a cry escaped from Hermione's mouth and tears fell from her eyes. She scrambled to her feet and fled from the Great Hall as fast as she could. She didn't hear Dumbledore announce her name as the new Head Girl or see his look of confusion as he realised she wasn't there. She didn't see Ben stand up as his name was also called. She didn't see a single tear fall from Ginny's eye. And she didn't see Draco Malfoy observe the whole thing with a look of concern on his face.

As soon as he saw Hermione leave the Hall, Ron's shoulders slumped and a pained expression came over his face.

"That was the hardest thing I have ever had to do," he muttered to Harry, who was rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses.

"I know," his friend replied, "but we had to do it. She is in too much danger. I will have to face Voldemort this year and there was no other way she would distance herself from me enough to keep her off his radar. As my friend, she is the single most wanted Muggle-born in Voldemort's eyes and if I have to give up her friendship so that she will be safe then so be it." Ron nodded. Merlin, he hoped Harry was right. "It's different with you, Ron", Harry continued, "With your family being as high profile as they are in the fight against Voldemort, you are a target anyway, but Hermione doesn't need to be. I love her too much to put her in danger."

"Me too," Ron agreed, "I really hope she is okay though."

"Me too," whispered Harry, "Me too."

Hermione ran through the hallways of Hogwarts as fast as she could, tears streaming uncontrollably down her cheeks. The sound of Ron saying _that _word was echoing through her mind. Never in her life did she think that she would ever hear that word in her best friend's voice. _Former best friend_ she reminded herself. She didn't understand why this was happening. What had she done to make the two most important people in her life turn against her like this?

Before she knew it she was in the confines of her dormitory where she flung herself down on her bed, pulling the curtains closed around her a muttering a few charms to ensure she would not be disturbed by any of the other girls later on. She buried her head in her pillow and cried harder than she could ever remember crying before in her life.

_Mudblood!_ The word kept repeating itself over and over in her mind, each time causing a pain in her heart that felt as though someone was slicing her open with a dagger. She realised with dismay that that 'someone' was, in fact, Ron.

So many things made sense now. The lack of letters throughout the summer and the avoidance of eye contact in the Prefects meeting. She felt so stupid at having convinced herself that were was just a mailing problem and that they would be worried about her too. _They don't even care about me anymore. _She realised with a jolt that Ginny probably had heard her on the platform and had just ignored her call. She would try and speak to her the next morning. Perhaps she would get some more sense out of her.

A loud grumble from her stomach reminded Hermione that she had yet to eat today and she considered heading down to the kitchens to get some food from Dobby. She reached up to pull her curtains apart when she was stopped by the sound of her housemates returning from the feast. Hermione drew back her hand. Having spent the best part of the last hour crying she was sure she looked dreadful and didn't want the other girls to see her like that. Instead she cast some silencing charms around her bed so that they would not hear her and lay there listening to their cheerful banter about their summer holidays and what classes they were taking this year. Rather quickly, however, Hermione found that their laughter was too much for her to take so she used her wand to block out their voices, before letting the tears fall once again.

She lay awake crying long into the night, until the other girls were sound asleep and her own pillow was soaking wet. She felt such pain and betrayal that even breathing was a struggle. These two boys had been her everything for six years. How could they just turn their backs on her? She repeated the question of 'What have I done wrong?' over and over until sheer exhaustion took over and she finally drifted off into a restless sleep.

**A/N There you go Guys, hope you liked it. Please review!!**


	3. But the Classes Must Go On

**A/N – Hey everyone, sorry it took so long to get this chapter out, life kind of got in the way a bit. But here it is and I hope you like it. Unlike the last chapter, there isn't much explanation in this one, just some setting up for the future.**

**I want to thank all my reviewers of course, each and every one of you. I love getting reviews, I just wish everyone who read reviewed. In particular though I want to thank Pedestriancow who said in his/her review "****one thing thats not credible... draco having a look of concern... thats just like wtf?" When I reread that part I realized that you are completely right. It was too early and unrealistic. Unfortunately that was one of the parts that I added last minute otherwise I'm sure my beta would have picked up on it. I just wanted to thank you for you criticism, it was well justified.**

**As usual, I also want to thank my amazing beta LaRubinita and if you haven't read her FFs yet you are missing out.**

**Anyway, on with the chapter….**

**But the Classes Must Go On**

**Chapter 2**

"_Mudblood!"_

"_No!"_

"_Mudblood!"_

"_No!"_

"_MUDBLOOD!"_

"NO!" Hermione sat up straight in her bed. The sheets were soaked from sweat and tears and her eyes were sore. She glanced down at her watch. 8:34. _Damn_ she thought, pulling back her curtains and climbing out of bed. Classes started in 25 minutes. She ran to the bathroom and stood in front of the mirror. _Merlin, I look appalling. _Her eyes were red and puffy from crying the previous night but had somehow still managed to have black rings underneath them from lack of sleep. _Brilliant,_ Hermione thought, _I look like I've been hit in the face with a frying pan._

Shaking her head she showered quickly and pulled her wet hair straight into a ponytail. When she left the bathroom she noticed her timetable had been left on her bed. _McGonagall must have had it sent up after I wasn't at breakfast. _She picked it up and saw that first lesson of the day was Transfiguration. She pulled on her school uniform, grabbed her bag and ran to the class.

She slipped in the Transfiguration classroom with just moments to spare and was relieved to see that Professor McGonagall hadn't arrived yet. Looking around the room Hermione noticed that, due to the difficultly of the NEWT level lessons, there were much fewer students taking Transfiguration this year. As a result, the class was shared between Gryffindors and Slytherins.

Her eyes automatically sought out Ron and Harry who were sitting on a table for two towards the back of the room. Normally the three of them would sit together with herself in the middle so that she could help them out if they needed it. _Well not anymore._ Ron was staring determinedly at the book on the desk in front of him while Harry glanced up upon her arrival in the classroom and shot her a glare. She dropped her eyes to the ground for a second, trying desperately to regain her composure. _Come on Hermione, don't let them see you cry._

She shook her head and looked around the classroom for an empty seat. Her heart dropped, however, when she realised that the only space left was next to none other than Draco Malfoy, who was looking slightly lost without his two henchmen, Crabbe and Goyle. Neither of them were clever enough to get into this class. She sighed to herself, _typical, bloody typical. _Feeling defeated she made her way over to the blonde boy and slid into the seat on his left.

"Looking a bit rough there, Granger. What's wrong? Trouble in paradise with Potty and the Weasel?" Malfoy spoke with the same sarcastic tone as always. _Well, at least some things never change,_ thought Hermione. She lifted her eyes to his for a moment, trying to desperately to think of a witty comeback. She discovered, however, that her brain wasn't working fast enough today.

Sighing with defeat she turned her attention to her teacher who had just entered the room, "Whatever, Malfoy," she muttered.

"Good morning class," began McGonagall, effectively silencing anything Malfoy may have been about to say, "I hope you all had a productive summer. Now, the work today is going to provide the baseline for a project you will be starting in a few weeks so it is essential that you all pay attention. The project will be on the transfiguration of everyday objects into things essential for survival in times of danger. We will discuss the basics in class then you will all be put into pairs and given a list of items that you will have four weeks to learn how to transfigure. Then, in your pairs, you will be dropped in an undisclosed location in the wilderness with nothing but your wands and you will have to survive for three nights. How well you all conduct yourselves during this time and how well you all cope will determine your grade. This will be worth 40 of your final NEWT grade. This exercise will hopefully teach you how to survive in the wild as well as teamwork as both members of each pair will receive the same scores. You must work together. Any questions?"

Hermione listened as her classmates whispered to each other excitedly about their project. This was certainly different than what they were used to and it seemed to be quite a fun challenge that most people were looking forward to.

"Professor," Seamus Finnegan raised his hand, "what kind of environment are we talking about? Like a forest?"

"Good question, Mr. Finnegan," McGonagall replied, "it will be an environment we have specially created, much like we did the maze that Mr. Potter had to find his way around during the Tri-Wizard tournament three years ago, except these are forests on a mountain somewhere in north of Hogwarts…"

Professor McGonagall continued to talk, but as soon as she had mentioned Harry's name Hermione had stopped listening. Her attention had been turned sharply back to her former friends whom were currently whispering to each other in excitement. Hermione felt a pang of sadness when she saw Harry say something to Ron that caused him to start laughing loudly. _They've forgotten me already,_ Hermione realised with a shock. _They don't miss me at all._ She tore her eyes away from the boys and hurriedly tried to blink away the tears that were threatening to fall.

"Okay class, that's all for today. Make sure you complete that homework for next lesson. It's very important."

_Homework! _ Hermione panicked. She hadn't been listening and had no idea what they were supposed to be doing. She glanced over at the sheet of parchment that sat on the desk in front of Malfoy and was relieved to see that he had written down the assignment. She copied it down quickly and stood to leave. She wanted to try and find Ginny before lunch. She was stopped though before she made it out of the room.

"Miss Granger, may I have a word?"

Hermione turned at smiled at her professor, "Of course." _Shit, I hope she didn't realise I wasn't paying attention and I hope this doesn't take long, I have to find Ginny. _Her stomach growled. _And get something to eat._

Hermione exited the classroom almost twenty minutes later. The teacher hadn't realised she wasn't concentrating, she had just wanted to congratulate her on becoming Head Girl and wanted to know what her plans were for after Hogwarts. As much as McGonagall was Hermione's favourite teacher, she was cursing her now as she rushed through the hallways of Hogwarts towards the Great Hall. She hoped that it wouldn't take long to find the only friend she seemed to have left. For once, though, it seemed her luck was in as she spotted red hair exiting the Hall as she approached.

"Ginny," the other girl looked up at the sound of her name but upon realising whom had spoken she blushed, lowered her head and walked faster. Hermione ran over to her and grabbed her arm. "Gin, please. I have to know what is going on."

The youngest Weasley looked around to check there was no-one near before nodding to Hermione and leading her into an empty classroom nearby. She locked the door behind them and cast a quick silencing charm. "Hermione, I'm so sorry for all this but I can't talk to you."

"But Gin, why ever not?"

The shorter girl looked into the pained brown eyes of her older friend and felt as though she had failed her greatly. "I just can't. Ron made me swear not to. I'm not even allowed to tell you why. Just know that it's for your own good. I know it's hard but you have just got to trust me on that."

Before Hermione could ask anymore, Ginny gave her a quick hug and left the room, leaving the brunette even more confused that ever.

After a few minutes, Hermione looked at her watch and realised it was time for her to head to her next class, Potions. Her mind was buzzing, she had been so sure that she would get some real answers from Ginny and, though she had given her a bit of information, it had only left her even more confused. She walked in a daze, her feet taking her in the direction of the dungeons but not really paying any heed to where she was going. Really, she shouldn't have been surprised when she walked straight into something solid and fell to the ground, her books falling from her arms onto the floor around her.

She rubbed her forehead where she had banged it when she bumped into whatever it was she had bumped into. It was only when it spoke that she realised it was a person. With a sigh, almost knowing what was coming, she grimaced as she looked up into the glaring eyes of Draco Malfoy.

"Can't you watch where you're going, Mudblood?" he snapped.

_Mudblood!_ She heard the word ring out again in her head but it wasn't Malfoy's voice. It was Ron's. Her eyes filled with tears at the memory and she stood up quickly, determined to get away from the blonde Slytherin before he saw her cry. Really, she knew it was too late but she still just wanted to leave. It had been a long time since his taunts had made her cry and she hadn't wished it to ever happen again.

"Granger?" he said, almost gently.

"Just leave me alone, Malfoy." With that she pushed passed him and ran towards her Potions lesson, wiping the tears from her cheeks as she did so.

If somebody had asked Hermione whether it was possible for Severus Snape to become more bad-tempered she would have said no, but, unfortunately for everyone, she would have been horribly wrong. It turned out that he believed that anyone who had managed to get into his NEWT level Potions class should feel as though they were especially privileged to even be there and therefore should be willing to accept an even greater level of verbal abuse than normal.

"I will let you all know straight away," began Snape, once all six of the students were seated, "that I expect nothing but the absolute best from my NEWT students and anyone falling below that standard will be removed from this class without even a second thought, and I can almost guarantee that one of you will be gone within the first week." The six students, who comprised of Hermione, Ben Thompson, Blaise Zabini, Padma Patil, a Slytherin boy that Hermione couldn't recall the name of and, of course, Draco Malfoy, looked at each other nervously wondering which one of them it would be.

Hermione was sure that, being the only Gryffindor, Snape was desperately hoping it would be her. It was only with Dumbledore's intervention that she had been allowed into the class in the first place. Snape had initially rejected her request but when the Headmaster pointed out that she had the second best OWL's scores out of the whole year group he was forced to reconsider. Hermione was determined to prove that she was worth being in this room and had spent a large part of the summer studying the subject intensively.

"Now, I want you all to begin brewing the potion on page three hundred and forty-eight in your textbooks. You will need almost our entire two hour session today to complete this on time so I would suggest you work efficiently. Oh, and do be careful. This formula is extremely volatile. I have just rid myself of Longbottom from this classroom so I do not want anymore disasters." With a flick of his wand, the supplies cupboard opened, indicating that they should begin.

Hermione scowled a bit a Snape's unnecessary comment about Neville but she decided not to dwell on it too long. She was determined not to mess up this first assignment. She dug her textbook out of her bag and turned to the required page. The potion was one used to wipe someone's memory. Obviously, most witches and wizards used a charm for this task but Hermione knew that these charms could be broken. She remembered sadly what had happened to poor Bertha Jorkins. With the potion it was permanent. However, the charm was usually preferred was because the potion was incredibly difficult to make. The method was so precise that even a single mistake could be disastrous.

One hour and thirty minutes later, Hermione was almost finished her potion. She was sure it was going to work. She had read and reread each step to make sure it was perfect. Just then she felt someone's eyes boring into the back of her head and she turned around to find Malfoy staring at her. He was, much to her resentment, the only student to have beaten her in the Potions OWLs though she thought that that may be due more to Snape's intervention than Malfoy's skill. He did not look away when she turned to him but merely narrowed his eyes as though he were studying her, before shaking his head and turning back to his work. _Odd,_ thought Hermione, _I wonder what…_ her deliberation, however, was interrupted by a loud bang from across the room.

A voice shouted, "DUCK!" and she dropped to the floor immediately, lying on her stomach, lifting her head to try and work out what was going on. She could see Malfoy to her left in a position similar to her own looking confused and, for once, rather inelegant. On her right she could she Ben, lying over Padma as though he had pulled her to the ground with him. Beyond that her vision was obstructed by the thick yellow smoke that was filling the room. She heard Snape yell a spell that vanished the smoke and she, along with the others, gingerly got to her feet looking around.

The perpetrator was immediately obvious as she saw Zabini stood in shock in front of his now liquefied cauldron. His skin was dyed a deep purple colour, _weird, seeing as the smoke was yellow, _considered Hermione.

Snape was fuming. He ranted for twenty minutes about the dangers of not reading instructions properly and how he expected better from his NEWT class. He also decided it would be appropriate to punish all of the students and ordered them all to write a detailed two foot essay on 'The dangers of tomfoolery in potion making.' Also, to make matters worse, he wanted them all completed by the next day.

Five of the students filed out of the dungeon room with matching expressions of dread on their faces at the prospect of even more homework. Zabini was notably absent from the departing group as, much to his horror, Snape had ordered him to remain behind. Hermione felt slightly sorry for the boy who looked terrified at being left alone in a room with the fuming Potions Master. However, this pity did not last long as she reminded herself that it was very unlikely that Snape would kick one of his own Slytherins off the course.

Cursing Snape repeatedly under her breath Hermione headed to her next class, Charms. An as she went she considered her odd interaction with Malfoy right before the explosion. He had definitely been staring at her but it was not with his usual smirk or scowl. His expression had been blank and even when she had returned his look he had remained unfazed. No doubt he had been thinking about what had happened right before the class had begun when she had started crying. Hermione cursed herself at showing her weakness in front of the most inappropriate person possible. She was surprised he hadn't laughed in her face there and then, and rubbed it in her face during the last lesson. He was probably just surprised, she considered, no doubt I'll hear about it later.

Hermione sighed and glanced at her watch. She would have to hurry to get to Charms in time. She shook her head slightly to clear it of all Draco Malfoy related thoughts and set off at a jog.

**A/N – There you go, hope you liked it, please review, I will love you forever.**

**xxx**


	4. Blowing Up

**A/N Hey guys, I'm so sorry for the long gap. Been really busy lately and writing has really been able to fit into my schedule but here is the next chapter. I hope you like it!! **

**Oh and PS thanks to my beta larubinita, you're the best.**

Blowing up

Hermione moved quickly through the hallways due to the fact that she was running a bit late, however her haste did not express her true feelings about the lesson. She was dreading the experience more than anyone could imagine because, due to the light-hearted nature of the class, she was sure both Ron and Harry would be taking it. This thought alone was enough to make her stomach turn and her feel sick.

She shook her head in dismay. She could not believe that these were the feelings she was having about the two people who, just two days ago, were her best friends in the whole world. She felt the pressure building up behind her eyes indicating that tears were imminent but she shook them off. _Not now!_

As she walked, Hermione tried for the hundredth time to work out what the hell was going on. She forced herself to mentally distance from the situation and think about it logically, as though it was an arithmancy problem that had to be solved. She thought of all the different clues that there had been since the summer had started. The lack of letters should have been the first one to set off alarm bells and, in all actuality, she had known something was wrong then but had refused to admit it. Ron and Harry had merely been busy; Harry was planning the demise of the most evil wizard of all time, after all.

The person who confused her the most was Ginny. Hermione was sure she had ignored her on Platform 9 ¾ but Hermione had got the feeling from their brief conversation that it was at her reluctance.

"_I can't talk to you."_

She had said 'can't' not 'don't want to' as Ron had. Ginny had also claimed that her brother had been the one to convince her to behave as she was.

_Why would Ron do that?_ The question plagued her. Of the two boys Ron had always held a very special place in her heart. Of course, she loved Harry as well but it was always different with Ron. She had always felt that it was just a matter of time before things had changed between them and, though she always knew Ron was probably too dense to realise it, she thought he felt the same way about her.

She sighed deeply as she approached the door of Flitwick's classroom. Then, with her head held high but her heart feeling low, she pushed the door open.

Charms passed in much the same manner as Transfiguration had. Ron and Harry were defiantly ignoring her presence, taking a break from this only to glare in her direction every so often.

Hermione knew that other people around them were starting to realise that something was wrong. There were several whispers when she entered the room and lowered herself into an empty chair away from the two boys.

She even thought she heard Seamus mutter, "There, see? She sat away from them again. Just like in Transfiguration."

Hermione also determinedly ignored Lavender Brown who was constantly trying to catch her eye, supposedly to ask what was going on. Hermione felt a spike of anger at this as she knew that the other girl was not doing this out of concern but rather to try and learn some gossip.

One bright side, however, was that Charms was a class shared with the Ravenclaws so she was not forced to sit with Draco Malfoy. She felt embarrassment at the display he had witnessed earlier. She was mentally kicking herself over and over at having cried in front of him. No doubt by dinner the whole school would know what had happened. What pissed her off the most though was that Malfoy was so arrogant that he probably thought he had been the one to cause her distress and was probably gloating to his two goons about how he still had the power to get to her. He was probably taking great pleasure from her pain.

The lesson ended, in Hermione's eyes, not a moment too soon. The cold shoulder she was getting from Harry and Ron was bad enough without everyone else whispering about her as well. And all she had gained was even more homework.

Glancing at her watch and considering the loud grumbles her stomach was making, Hermione decided to head down to the Great Hall for a very quick dinner before going to the library to begin her mountain of work.

"Miss Granger!" Hermione groaned at the sound of her name. She had been so close to dinner that she could smell the chicken. She stopped, however, and turned to see the kindly face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Professor," she greeted, "how are you today?"

"Oh, I am just wonderful. It is so refreshing to see my hallways filled once again with young minds, eager to learn." His blue eyes sparkled beneath his half-moon spectacles and Hermione thought that he looked very much like a proud parent. She couldn't help but offer him a small smile. "I was wondering if I could steal a moment of your time."

"Of course, sir. How can I assist you?" her voice was strained, even to her own ears but she hoped her headmaster wouldn't notice.

"Actually, Miss Granger, it is I who shall be assisting you. You left the Great Hall so quickly last night that I didn't have the chance to show you to your new quarters."

"New quarters?"

"Of course, you must have known that the Head Boy and Girl each year get their own room. It's in Hogwarts: A History."

Hermione kicked herself. Of course she had known. How could she not? She had just forgotten. Upon hearing Dumbledore's words though her spirits soared.

Her own room!

Her rumbling stomach forgotten she said, "Can we go now?!" Dumbledore smiled at her eagerness and she realised that she had been a bit abrupt, "If you are not busy, Sir, of course."

"I believe I can take a moment out of my busy schedule, if you would like to follow me."

Dumbledore lead Hermione through the corridors of the ancient school up to the fifth floor. They passed a number of portraits who greeted the headmaster and each time he answered them, addressing each one by name. Hermione was amazed by the power and knowledge that the old man radiated. She very much doubted that there was a single corner of the castle that he did not know.

Finally, they reached a portrait of a young woman in lilac dress robes, sitting at an exquisite dressing table, who appeared to be getting ready for some kind of ball.

"Good evening, Matilda," greeting Professor Dumbledore, "How are you today?"

The woman smiled, radiantly, "Oh, Professor, I am all the better for seeing you."

The headmaster beamed, "Matilda, may I introduce Hermione Granger, our new Head Girl. Hermione, this is Matilda, she will be the guard to your quarters."

The two girls, both real and painted, exchanged their greetings. "You need to simply tell Matilda what you wish your password to be and you alone have the ability to change it." Upon these words Dumbledore wandered a few paces away so as not to overhear Hermione's next words.

She racked her brain for several moments attempting to think of a password that no-one would guess. Her eyes darkened as she thought of one. "_Trahir."_ It seemed fitting in her eyes, _to betray_ in French.

Dumbledore rejoined them and pointed to another portrait a few feet down the hall of a man in fine, Victorian-style robes. "That is the portrait hole of Mr. Thompson, our new Head Boy." Hermione nodded. "Now," he continued, "I will leave you to get settled into your new quarters, but first I must tell you that we are to have our first Prefect's meeting of the year tomorrow afternoon, straight after classes. I will be in attendance to help Mr. Thompson and yourself get organised but all subsequent meetings will be purely in your control. Would you please inform the Prefects of the time and tell them we shall meet in my office."

"Yes, Sir," Hermione replied. _Brilliant, one more thing for me to do tonight._ She watched the Headteacher depart and turned towards Matilda.

"Trahir."

Hermione gasped as she looked around her new quarters, a genuine smile appearing on her face for the first time since she had returned to Hogwarts. The carpet in the room was a deep, royal blue colour that Hermione thought was beautiful and it looked so thick and comfortable that she immediately stripped off her shoes and socks to feel its texture between her toes. In the centre of the room was an antique mahogany four-poster bed, with a quilt that matched the flooring. There was a large desk in the corner with a comfy-looking, leather chair before it. Hermione ran her fingers over the old wood and imagined herself seated there with books spread before her, working on some piece of work to complete. This image brought a smile to her face.

On the back wall was a large fireplace with a roaring fire heating the room to a pleasant temperature. In front of the fire was a large dark blue armchair that Hermione pictured herself sitting in, reading late into the night. She turned around and saw a door on the same wall as the desk and she opened it to discover a beautiful bathroom with gold fixings and a mirror that complimented her as she walked passed. For the first time in two days she forgot about Harry and Ron and grinned widely at her surroundings. These were _her _rooms. _Hers. _

After spending several more minutes examining her new accommodation in greater detail, Hermione looked at her watch and discovered, with a groan, that she had missed dinner.

_So much for things looking up._

With a sigh she gathered her bag and books and headed to the library to begin the mountain of homework that was due the following day. As she entered the room that had long since been her favourite at Hogwarts she immediately spotted the two people that she least wanted to see.

_They're even sucking the enjoyment out of the library for me._

With a sigh, she put her head down and discretely slipped passed the boys and down a nearby aisle that blocked her from view. She headed towards the back of the stacks, searching for a table that was as far away from other people as possible. Finally, she approached a desk in a relatively secluded corner. She sat down heavily and pulled out her Transfiguration assignment first.

It was almost four hours later when Hermione finally sighed and put down her quill as she completed her last piece of homework, the essay for Snape. She leaned back in her chair and rubbed her aching right hand. Her eyes were sore and heavy, a consequence of her almost completely sleepless night the night before, and a quick glance at her watch revealed it was nearly 11 o'clock. Gathering her books and parchment, Hermione stood and tiptoed quietly back through the almost deserted library, stopping only to wake a sixth year, Ravenclaw who had fallen asleep on his Arithmancy essay.

Hermione crept through the hallways of the dark school for ten minutes, peering around every corner, before she remembered that she was Head Girl and was thus allowed to be out as late as she liked. She arrived at the portrait of Matilda after what seemed like an hour and quietly muttered the password. Relief flooded onto her face as her eyes fell on her bed and she dropped her bag, kicked off her shoes before falling, rather ungracefully, onto it. She was asleep within seconds.

"Shit!" Hermione cursed as she woke and looked at her watch, only to discover that she was even later than she had been the previous morning. Also, to make matters worse, her head was pounding. She jumped off the bed and pulled her shoes on as she climbed out through the portrait hole, still wearing yesterday's attire. Pulling her hair into a messy pony-tail and muttering a charm to clean her teeth as she ran through the halls towards her first class of the day, double Arithmancy. She slipped through the door a few minutes late and received a glare from her professor, to whom she smiled apologetically before slipping into her seat.

Of all the classes that she was taking this year (and the number was substantial) Arithmancy was the one that she was dreading the least for one, simple reason – Ron and Harry weren't in it. It was a lesson that neither of them had taken as it was definitely more academic and quite beyond them and this idea was confirmed by looking around the room to see that Hermione was the only Gryffindor and all of the rest of the students were Ravenclaws. This also meant that Draco Malfoy was absent, another fact that lightened her spirits.

Nodding to herself with determination, Hermione pulled out her parchment and quill and set out to make notes. This, however, proved to be quite impossible as she could not seem to focus on the words before her. Her vision was constantly swimming and the sensation was causing her to feel quite sick. Consequently, rather than spending the two hours taking notes in intricate detail, she spent it taking deep breaths in and out to attempt to maintain her composure.

When Professor Vector announced at the end of the class that they could leave, Hermione had not taken in a single word she had said. She left the room with the other students and was heading down to the Great Hall for lunch when she spotted Professor Dumbledore.

"Shit!" she whispered to herself, "The meeting! Shit, shit, shit!" Changing direction to turned and ran towards the Owlery. She had forgotten to inform the Prefects of the meeting that afternoon.

Arriving in the tower struggling for breath, Hermione pulled out some parchment and hastily wrote a note to each of the Prefects and Ben, the Head Boy, telling them the time and location of the meeting as well as apologising profusely for the last minute notice. It took her ages to catch enough owls for each of the recipients and attach the letters and by the time she finished she looked at her watch to discover that she had just ten minutes to get to Transfiguration and it was on the opposite side of the school. Hermione groaned and set out running again.

She arrived at the classroom with just a few minutes to spare and a pounding headache. She sighed as she remembered that it was McGonagall's policy that the seat you sat in at the first lesson was then your allocated place for the rest of the year. That meant that she would have to suffer another hour next to Malfoy and with double potions straight afterwards the afternoon was looking to go all to hell. Feeling defeated, she slid in the chair on Malfoy's left and began rummaging in her bag for the headache potion that she knew was in there somewhere.

Malfoy was looking particularly smug today, Hermione noted, as she tried determinedly to ignore him, removing book after book from her backpack. No doubt he was still feeling triumphant about getting to her yesterday and making her cry so easily. Her cheeks blushed red with embarrassment at the memory and she cursed herself inwardly for appearing so weak.

Finally, she let out a small noise of success as she found the tiny phial under a particularly large Potions book that she had been studying from over the summer. Fortunately, she had charmed it to be unbreakable so it was in one piece as she uncorked it and lifted it to her lips. Her headache began to subside almost immediately, though not completely, which was a small relief.

"What's the matter, Granger? Feeling under the weather?" Malfoy, sneered, "Careful, wouldn't want you to start crying."

His mocking tone which would normally have inspired anger in her just made her feel more depressed. "Sod off, Malfoy," she muttered as McGonagall entered the classroom. Hermione also noticed Ron and Harry slip in only seconds before their teacher, though she tried resolutely not to follow them with her gaze as they made their way to their seats a few rows on her left.

"Right, class," began Professor McGonagall, "today I will be giving you the list of items that you will need to learn how to transfigure in order to survive in our little project. As I mentioned before you will be working in pairs and to avoid any hassle you will just be working with whomever you are sitting with and that's final."

Hermione groaned as she realised the meaning of her words. She would have to work with Malfoy for four weeks plus survive with him for three nights in Merlin-knows-where.

_I must have been really bad in a past life._

A quick glance to her right showed that Malfoy looked just as unhappy about the arrangement as she was.

_We'll kill each other._

McGonagall began handing out the lists to each of the pairs and as she did Hermione looked over to her two best friends (_EX-best friends_, she reminded herself) and saw that they were pouring over their copy with looks of excitement. Jealousy and pain shot through her chest and she rubbed her eyes furiously in an attempt to stop the tears falling.

"Okay, Granger," Malfoy's voice came from her right and she let her hands drop and lifted her tired eyes to his glaring ones, "this is how we are going to do this." With that he torn the piece of parchment horizontally across the middle and handed her the bottom half. "You do those and I'll do these. Then, between us we'll be able to do them all and we won't have to speak anymore than we have to." Hermione nodded in agreement and took her half of the list and stuck it in her bag without even glancing at it.

McGonagall dismissed them all, explaining that tomorrow she would begin with the basics of environmental transfiguration, and Hermione stood, making her way to the dungeons, dreading the next two hours with two of the men she hated the most.

For the most part, the first hour and thirty minutes of Snape's lesson went relatively well. Hermione's headache potion seemed to have done the trick and although she kept being overcome by waves of sickness she was fighting through it, determined to prove that she deserved her place in front of her cauldron.

As usual, Snape began the lesson by lecturing his students and, after yesterday's 'incident', he was particularly brutal. The only thing that was different was that Blaise Zabini was notably absent and, Hermione had overheard Malfoy telling the only other remaining Slytherin, that after he had caused the explosion the previous day Snape had shouted at him, saying that there was 'No room for stupidity in this classroom,' until, finally, Zabini dropped the class. Hermione wasn't surprised to discover that the Potion Master's prediction that one of them wouldn't last two weeks had come true, though she was slightly stunned that it had been a Slytherin.

After his rant, Snape informed them that they were going to be brewing a particularly volatile potion used in healing that, if brewed correctly, could remove almost any virus from the human body. However, it was liable to explode during the making process with even the slightest miscalculation or error, so they were all warned to be especially careful.

So, an hour and a half into the lesson all was going well. Hermione's potion was the correct shade of green as indicated in the textbook and she had just one more ingredient to add. Having six minutes to wait before the next step, she went to retrieve the boomslang, her remaining component, from the supplies cupboard. However, this is where things went disastrous.

On her way back to her cauldron with two and a half minutes to spare, Hermione was overcame by a wave of dizziness and lost her balance, instinctively grabbing on to the nearest solid object to steady herself. Unfortunately, the nearest solid object was Draco Malfoy and, even more unfortunately, her bumping against him caused him to drop his phoenix feathers in all at once rather than one at a time as stated in the instructions. Subsequently, as had been previously warned, his cauldron exploded sending its contents everywhere. Three out of the five students and the teacher managed to duck under their desks in time to avoid getting splattered. Unfortunately, the two people standing closest to it did not and Draco's left arm (which was just protected by his thin shirt as he had removed his heavy robes in the heat of the dungeon) and the right side of Hermione's face got covered. Immediately, the substance began to burn though within seconds Snape jumped to his feet and pointed his wand at the pair, vanishing the liquid. All that remained were red marks wherever it had touched skin.

Snape swooped forward, his robes billowing behind him as usual and his face contorted with anger, and his glare fell on her. However, before he could open his mouth to scold her he was beaten to it.

"YOU STUPID MUDBLOOD!" Hermione spun around to face the uncontrolled fury of Draco Malfoy. "WHAT IS THE MATTER WITH YOU?! ARE YOU SO STUPID THAT YOU CANNOT EVEN WALK ACROSS A ROOM WITHOUT CAUSING HAVOCK?! OR IS IT THAT YOU ARE SO CAUGHT UP IN ALL YOUR FUCKING DRAMA WITH POTTER AND WEASLEY THAT IT HAS ZAPPED EVERY BIT OF CONCENTRATION FROM YOUR STUPID HEAD!"

Hermione's eyes widened at his words, them hitting home much closer than she would have liked. For a moment, she felt her eyes fill with tears that were about to fall but then her mood switched. She had done nothing but cry for days now and she was not going to do it anymore. Especially not because of Draco Fucking Malfoy. Her brown eyes met his grey ones and she stepped forward so that she was just inches from his face and when she spoke her voice was not loud or shouting, it was surprising low though filled with hate and anger.

"How dare you talk to me about things that you don't understand? You think that you are better than me just because you've got your fucking pure blood. Well, let me tell you something. That blood is going to cost you more than you can ever imagine. Yes, maybe I am feeling weak at the moment but that is because I have lost something I love but, you know what, at least I had it to lose. You have never loved anything in your sad little life and no-one had ever loved you and no-one ever will because you are so disgusting and pathetic that just looking at you makes me sick. You, Draco Malfoy, are going to die old and alone without ever being happy and, I'll tell you what, when that day comes I will laugh because it will be _exactly_ what you deserve."

With that she stepped back and stormed out of the room before either Malfoy or Snape could say a word.

**A/N there you go, hope you liked it, please R&R**

xxxx


	5. Alone?

Chapter 4

**A/N Here you go. I hope u like it. I think this chapter is quite eventful so hopefully it'll keep you entertained. Please let me know what you think. Thanks also to my beta la rubinita :-)**

Alone?

Chapter 4

Human beings are miraculous things. So miraculous, in fact, people believe that we are just too amazing of an entity to have appeared by chance in this world, and thus we must have been created by some sort of higher power….God. Hermione Granger did not believe this. She didn't accept foolish notions of 'fate' or 'destiny'. She didn't think that Harry Potter would defeat Lord Voldemort because it was prophesised but rather because it was in his nature to protect others and play the hero, and it was in Tom Riddle's nature to become obsessed with that which he cannot control. Harry was a living example of just how amazing human's are. How much they can go through and still survive. Our bodies can fight off disease, heal themselves and even be brought back to life after the heart has stopped. They can cope with a lot. One thing, however, humans are not designed to cope with is loneliness. We aren't meant to be alone.

This is what Hermione was thinking as she stormed out of her Potion's lesson and across the hall into the first empty room she found. She had spent most of her childhood by herself. She was an only-child and always much more grown-up than the other children her age. Subsequently, she would spend many hours in her bedroom reading or playing games. Though her parents were kind and caring and loved her very much, she always felt sad that she never had a brother or sister, or any friends to play with.

When she first arrived at Hogwarts, things weren't much different. She had expected this to be a whole new start and she'd meet new people and make new friends, but she soon realised that this wasn't the case. She was still an outsider. She was still alone.

All that changed, though, on Halloween of her first year when Ron and Harry rescued her from that troll. All of a sudden, for first time in her life, she had people (other than her parents) who worried about her, who cared if she was happy or hurt. She had friends and she was happier than she had ever been. She grew to love those two boys more than anything and they were the most important things in her life, even more important than school and grades (though she hated to admit it). Life had changed as she knew it. And now it had changed again, this time for the worse.

As soon as Hermione entered the empty classroom, her anger dissipated and her grief returned. She placed her hands on a nearby desk, relying on it to hold her up, and hung her head, allowing tears to fall for the first time that day. She felt sick, not because of Malfoy, she expected this sort of behaviour from him after all of these years, but because of Harry and Ron. She had trusted them, loved them, and they had abandoned her without the slightest explanation.

_How could I be so stupid?_

"Hermione?" she jumped at the sound of the voice behind her and spun around to see Ben framed in the doorway, looking sheepish. "You forgot your bag." She glanced down at his hand and recognised her backpack.

Feeling suddenly embarrassed, she hastily wiped the tears from her cheeks, grateful that she had been too late out of bed that morning to put any make-up on. She sat down heavily on the desk behind her that she had just been leaning against and sighed. "Thank you, Ben. I guess I forgot to pick it up."

He laughed and moved over to sit next to her, placing her bag on the floor, "Well, I can't blame you," he snorted rather inelegantly, "that was quite a display. You should have seen the looks on Snape and Malfoy's faces after you left. Best moment of my life."

Hermione looked up at his beaming face and couldn't help letting out a small smile, "I was rather good, wasn't I?"

Ben's grin got even wider upon seeing her smile and he jumped down from the table, "Hell yeah! Come on," he said holding out his hand for her to take, "we've got that Prefects' meeting."

She nodded and took his hand, allowing him to help her down. Scooping up her backpack as she walked past, they started the long trek to Dumbledore's office.

By the time the two Head students had reached the Headmaster's office, Hermione was feeling incredibly ill. The nausea that she had been experiencing in waves all day was now constant and her head was pounding. To make matters worse, as she entered Dumbledore's office she felt like she had walked into an oven and the sound of all the people in the room talking to each other at once was deafening.

She was vaguely aware of the Head teacher leading her and Ben to the front of the room, to stand before his desk with all the prefects, now quiet, seated in rows facing them. She saw Ron standing sulkily at the back and felt a glare from Malfoy who was sitting in the centre of the back row.

She felt dizzy and, when she raised her hand to rub her eyes, she was surprised to feel her skin wet with sweat. She could hear Dumbledore speaking to her left though she couldn't make out his words and felt Ben touch her right shoulder.

"Hermione, are you all right?" with great effort, she managed to lift her head to look at her counterpart's concerned face but felt too weak to even speak. Her head lolled to her left and the last thing she saw before the blackness overcame her was a flash of red moving rapidly towards her.

"Mate, it was one of the worst moments of my life, seeing her pass out like that," Ron rubbed his eyes tiredly, "I tried to get to her in time to catch her but there were too many people in the way. Thank Merlin that Ben guy caught her, else she would have cracked her head open on Dumbledore's desk."

Harry sighed. He had been just as upset as Ron when he had returned early from the Prefects' meeting and told Harry what had happened. It was four hours later now, nearly 11 o'clock, but the two boys were still sat alone in the Gryffindor common room going over what had happened.

Of course, by now, the whole school knew that the Head Girl had fainted during the meeting and had been taken to the Hospital Wing. Neville, Dean and Seamus had all come up to them to ask how she was and what had happened but, of course, they hadn't been able to give them an answer. They weren't Hermione's friends anymore. What killed Harry the most was that she was going through this alone.

He had known that she would take their apparent abandonment badly but he hadn't realised just how bad. He had been watching her more closely than she realised over the last few days and he could see straight through the mask of indifference. Of course, everyone knew about her little 'incident' with Malfoy during Potions and, although he would usually shake the hand of anyone who could give the blond boy a good telling-off, Harry was worried that she had just blown up like that. It had been years since Hermione had let Malfoy get to her that much.

"Do you think we made a mistake?"

Harry looked up at his friend's question and realised how tired he looked. He knew Ron hadn't been sleeping since he had been forced to call Hermione a 'Mudblood' at the Welcoming Feast, and whenever he had slept he could be heard muttering '_Hermione, I'm sorry'_ in his sleep. She wasn't the only one taking this harder than Harry had originally thought.

He could see the look in Ron's eyes, pleading for him to admit to their mistake so that they could all go back to normal but he wasn't so sure. Harry knew that she was stronger than she appeared, stronger than she was acting. She just needed some time to adjust. He needed to protect her from Voldemort at all costs; he couldn't stand losing anyone else he loved, especially if he could have prevented it. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

He sighed, heavily, "No, Ron. I don't think we have." His friend visibly sank into his chair, looking devastated. "I'll tell you what," Harry continued, "We'll give it a month. A month, and if she's still not coping we'll go to her and tell her the truth and hope she forgives us."

Ron looked up slightly at the prospect of an end to this madness but his happiness soon faded. "The thing is though, mate, I don't think she ever will."

Hermione awoke suddenly and immediately recognised two things: the lights and smells of the hospital wing, and the taste of Pepper-Up potion in her mouth. She felt weak and her head was pounding but she attempted to push herself into a sitting position and tried to remember why she was here.

_Prefects' meeting. Dumbledore's office. Darkness._

"I fainted?" she asked herself out loud.

"Yes, Miss Granger, you did."

Hermione jumped at the voice and realised for the first time that she was not alone. Standing around her bed, all wearing expressions showing different degrees of concern and curiosity were Madame Pomfrey, Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. Hermione let her gaze fall on the nurse, who had been the one to speak.

"What happened?"

"That's what we are trying to find out," replied the matron in a professional tone. "Tell me, when was the last time you ate?"

Hermione thought for a moment.

_Lunchtime? No, I was mailing the Prefects' notes._

_Dinner last night? No, Dumbledore was showing me my rooms._

_Yesterday breakfast? No, I slept in._

_The train? No, I had been doing my duties the whole ride._

Hermione paled. She hadn't even had breakfast at her parent's house before they had left for the station because she had been so excited to see Harry and Ron.

The last meal she had had was at home the night before returning to school. How had she gone three days without eating and not even realised?

_You were preoccupied with other things,_ said the voice in her head.

Reading her expression, Madame Pomfrey tutted disappointedly, and quietly summoned Dobby.

Even in her present state, Hermione couldn't help but appreciate how comical his appearance was. She recognised several items from his attire as things she herself had made two years go. None of them, however, actually matched. Hermione didn't understand how such a small creature could be wearing so many different colours, from the purple tea cosy on his head to the yellow and blue (they were odd) socks on his feet.

"Dobby, would you please bring Miss Granger some food? Plenty of it and make sure there's some soup in there." At Madame Pomfrey's words, the small Elf threw a worried look Hermione's way before nodding and disappearing with a crack. The matron moved to the large cabinet at the far side of the wing, removed a few vials and returned to her bedside.

"Here, drink these," she instructed, handing her the potions. "They will help you replenish some of the nutrients you've lost. They will not be sufficient on their own, however. We need to get some food in you as soon as possible."

Hermione nodded in agreement, feeling increasingly embarrassed. All those people saw her black out.

_It'll be all over the school by now._

Looking slightly more satisfied as Hermione emptied the vials into her mouth and cringed at the taste, Madame Pomfrey continued, "When Dobby returns, make sure you eat the soup first, it will be easier on your stomach, and don't eat too fast or you'll make yourself sick. I'm keeping you here for 24 hours, you can leave tomorrow evening." Hermione opened her mouth to protest but was quickly cut off, "No, Miss Granger, that's final. After tomorrow it's the weekend so you'll have plenty of time to catch up on the work from your missed classes."

Feeling dejected, Hermione just agreed and the nurse nodded to the two professors before returning to her office.

As she bustled off, Professor McGonagall stepped forward.

"What happened, Miss Granger?" she asked, sounding genuinely concerned, "Why haven't you been eating?"

Hermione sighed, "I just….forgot," she muttered, even to her own ears it sounded stupid so she continued. "I've just been busy, I guess, I've got a lot on at the moment." She hoped that excuse sounded more convincing. It was true, after all. Almost.

McGonagall frowned, "Perhaps you have taken on too much this year," she suggested. "Maybe you should consider dropping one of your classes or suspending your Head Girl duties for a while?" She looked to the Headmaster for support and he nodded, but before he could open his mouth to speak he was interrupted.

"Oh no, Professor!" cried Hermione. "Please don't. I have worked so hard over the last six years to get to the position I am in now, both academically and as Head Girl, please don't take it away from me. I'll take better care of myself, I promise. I've just had a lot on my mind for the last few days, that's all. It's nothing. Madame Pomfrey's right, I just need some food and some time to relax and then I'll be fine."

Dumbledore looked at the pleading expression in his top student's eyes and nodded, "If you insist, Miss Granger, but if anything like this happens again I will be forced to strip you of your duties."

Looking instantly relieved, Hermione smiled, "Thank you, Professor, you won't regret it, I promise."

At that moment, Dobby reappeared with not one, but two other House Elves, all laden down with food. They began to conjure tables around her bed to put the plates on and he placed the biggest bowl of soup Hermione had ever seen in front of her. She smiled gratefully, realising just how hungry she was, and began to dig in.

"Well then, Miss Granger," said McGonagall, "we will leave you to eat. Would you like us to send for anyone to see you?"

Immediately upon hearing her words, Hermione felt sick again and the hand holding the soup spoon paused halfway to her mouth. Who could she send for? She had no friends, "No," she replied, quietly, "There's no-one."

Both of her teachers frowned in confusion but didn't ask any further questions before they left.

After eating until she felt she might explode, Hermione fell almost immediately to sleep, waking up only once during the night when she thought she heard something. When there was nothing there, however, she simply shrugged, turned over and nodded back off.

Up until about noon, the following day was extremely boring and uneventful. Hermione woke up to find that Dobby had brought her a big enough breakfast to feed an army, which she ate while reading the Daily Prophet. The headline was about the healer in charge of research at St. Mungo's going missing. The author of the article was trying to make out as though he had lost his mind and taken off, but by reading between the lines Hermione suspected he had been kidnapped, probably by Voldemort. Her first thought upon reading the story was whether or not Harry had recognised the subtext of the piece as the work of his enemy. Her heart dropped, however, as she remembered that he probably wouldn't care about her opinion anymore. She sighed and placed the newspaper on the table by her bed where Dobby had left her a bunch of flowers, handpicked from the Hogwarts grounds, in a vase. The gesture, though small, made her smile.

She found herself forgetting about her new relationship with the boys every so often. She would find herself thinking something like '_I wonder whether Ron has done his Transfiguration homework yet'_ or '_I'll have to get Harry to come with me to visit Hagrid later' _before abruptly remembering that they didn't care about her anymore. It was these moments that were the worst because, for just a second, she could convince herself that everything was okay but then it all would come crashing down just an instant later.

There was one thing, however, that was really bugging her. She kept remembering the moment that she passed out, and she was sure she could recall a flash of red heading in her direction before she was completely out of it. And in her mind red always had, and always would, equal Ron. Was he rushing to help her before she fainted? And if he was…why? Was it that he was having regrets about turning his back on her? Maybe he didn't hate her after all?

These were the thoughts that were ruminating around her head for most of the morning she was sat in her bed in the Hospital Wing and by noon she had managed to convince herself that Ron had, in fact, changed his mind and that he loved her again. She was half aware that she was grasping at straws but she no longer cared. She was sure that once she got out of the infirmary and could talk to him, everything would be all right again.

At lunchtime, while Hermione was eating a massive turkey sandwich, Madame Pomfrey came to inform her that she had to pop out for a bit and would be back soon. Little did either of them know, this seemingly insignificant action would be a catalyst that would change Hermione's life forever.

"Help! Please help me!" Hermione looked up as a distraught-looking first year stumbled through the doors of the Hospital Wing, supporting his friend who was only half-conscious and covered in blood. In a moment, Hermione was on her feet and rushing over to help lift the injured boy onto the nearest bed.

"What happened?" she asked desperately, tearing open the now unconscious boy's school shirt to see where the blood was coming from.

"He fell," his friend stuttered, tears running down his muddy face, "He said he wanted to get in some flying practice before our first lesson but he fell. I think he landed on this." He held up a thick, pointed bit of wood that was covered in the same red substance that was leaking from a gash in the boy's left side.

"Okay," said Hermione, trying not to sound as frantic as she felt as she pressed her hands on the boy's wound, "What's your name?"

"Martin," the boy replied.

"Martin, I need you to go over to the bookshelf in Madame Pomfrey's office and fetch the book that's called _Healing in Emergencies_," she had been reading the titles of the books that were visible through the office door just an hour earlier, "then I need you to go to the cabinet and see if there's a bottle that says _'blood replenishment' _on it. If there is…get it and my wand that next to my bed."

Martin nodded and set off running. He let out a yelp of excitement when he found both the book and the potion that she needed and returned with all three requested items.

"Right," Hermione continued, feeling a bit more in control but secretly cursing herself that in all the years that she had been friends with Ron and Harry she had never thought to learn any healing spells, "I need you to hold your hands over his wound." The first year looked terrified but did as she asked when she lifted her own hands off and started to flick through the book, looking for a spell to close a cut. She was leaving bright red fingerprints on the pages but for the first time in her life she didn't care that she was ruining a book.

"Are you a healer?" asked Martin, timidly as he watched her search.

"No," she replied, quickly. After he didn't say anything else, Hermione looked up at his face to see his expression was even more terrified at the thought of his mate's life being in inexperienced hands. "But I am Head Girl," she continued and when he looked slightly more relieved she turned back to the text before her, nearly crying with relief when she found the spell she was looking for. Reading the instructions quickly, she picked up her wand and read the incantation.

"_Propinquus."_

To both Hermione and Martin's enormous relief the wound closed and the bleeding stopped. Hermione sighed and poured some of the blood replenishment potion into the small boy's mouth. She took his wrist and felt for his pulse the Muggle way, not wanting to have to try and find the spell to do it with magic. It was weak but steady. She sighed again and collapsed into the chair behind her, letting her head fall into her hands.

"I think he's going to be all right," she whispered and Martin grinned, sitting down on the chair at the opposite side of the bed.

At that moment the doors to the Hospital Wing opened and Madame Pomfrey entered. She gasped at the sight before her. On the first bed of the ward lay an unconscious first year boy covered from head to toe in mud, his shirt ripped open and his entire torso plastered with wet and dry blood. To his left sat another boy who, despite being filthy and having tear tracks down his cheeks, was smiling and on the other side of the bed was her only other patient, with blood on her hands and face, looking exhausted.

"Good Merlin," she exclaimed rushing over, "What happened?"

The two students looked at each other, as though considering whether they might be in trouble. Hermione looked guiltily at the ruined book resting on the anonymous boy's legs and opened her mouth to speak but nothing came out.

The nurse cast a quick spell to clean away the blood on the boy and was amazed to find that, other than a thin scar, there was no injury. She looked from Hermione to the empty potion bottle and the open page in the book.

"You healed him?" she asked in amazement. Hermione nodded. Madame Pomfrey quickly regained her composure. "You," she commanded, pointing to Hermione, "back to bed. You," indicating to Martin, "tell me what happened." Both students did as they were told as the nurse began to run diagnostic spells on the boy in the bed.

Ten minutes later, Hermione was back in her bed having cleaned herself off, feeling exhausted, when Madame Pomfrey came to see her.

"That was quite amazing," she stated as though it were a fact. "You saved that boy's life. Had you waited until I had returned, he probably would have lost too much blood." Hermione's eyes widened, not really comprehending until that moment what she had done.

"I have a proposition for you," the matron continued, pausing briefly until she had the Head Girl's full attention, "I would like to take you on as an intern. I will teach you how to heal and you can assist me. I have a feeling I'm going to need help in the near future." Her eyes darkened momentarily, thinking of the horrors that she had seen last time He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was in full power. Now he was back, she had a feeling she had another hard time coming.

"Of course," she went on, "if healing is not something you are interested in then you can decline, I will understand, and, even if you do accept the internship, it will not begin for a few weeks until you are well again. The last thing you need right now is even more on your work load." This last part she said in the firm, no-argument tone that she spoke in whenever giving instructions to a patient.

Hermione thought about her proposal for all of twenty seconds before her face split into a smile and she accepted. "Oh yes, I would love to," she exclaimed, "I've thought about training to be a healer after Hogwarts and this would be wonderful!"

Madame Pomfrey nodded, pleased at the young girl's enthusiasm. "I'm going to leave you now. You can leave after you have eaten dinner later. I suggest you get some rest."

Almost as soon as she had left, Hermione had fallen asleep, a contented smile on her lips.

Hermione woke, several hours later, to the smell of curry by her bedside. She ate it quickly, eager to leave the hospital wing, and afterwards dressed and said goodbye to Madame Pomfrey, promising to speak to her soon about the internship, before leaving the infirmary.

Almost as soon as the double doors swung shut behind her, she stopped, wondering where she could go. Her mind returned to her thoughts earlier about Ron and considered heading up to the Gryffindor common room to try and speak to him. Her nerve, however, faltered and she changed her mind. Not wanting to risk rejection again so soon. She would see him tomorrow. Instead she decided to head to her safety zone, the library, to try and catch up on the work she had missed.

By the time she arrived at the library doors, her temporary good mood from her new work in the hospital wing and her certainty that Ron had changed his mind, was fading. She was beginning to doubt what she had thought about her ex-best friends' feelings towards her and the gut-wrenching sensation of being well and truly alone was returning.

_That lasted a long time, _she thought sarcastically as she pushed open the doors.

Her mood wasn't helped by the fact that the first sight she saw was Harry and Ron huddled around a circular table underneath one of the massive windows in the old room. Her heart dropped as she saw Harry rake his fingers through his hair in that familiar way as Ron made some sort of joke that he was obviously trying very hard not to laugh at. She watched as Ron produced two squashed looking chocolate frogs from his pocket and offered one to Harry who opened it and didn't move fast enough as it leapt through his fingers and out the window above their heads. Ron laughed loudly, earning himself several glares from the sixth year Ravenclaws who were trying to study at the next table.

"Some things never change," he exclaimed, either not noticing or not caring about the looks he was getting.

"Okay, Hermione," she whispered to herself, "They're in a good mood. Come on. Go and talk to them. You can do this."

The smiles on the boys' faces turned to scowls as she approached their table. "Hey guys," she said, her voice was shaky though she tried to sound cheerful, "do you mind if I borrow your notes from Transfiguration today? Obviously, I missed it." She tried, desperately to keep the smile on her face and ignore the looks on theirs.

Ron looked at Harry then looked down, suddenly fascinated by the card that had come with his chocolate. Harry, however, maintained eye contact, his face cold.

"When are you going to get the picture?" he whispered, his voice laced with poison. "We are not your friends anymore so why don't you just leave us the fuck alone!?"

The smile fell from Hermione's face and she felt her eyes fill with tears. "But Harry," she whispered, "won't you at least tell me why? What have I done wrong?"

His eyes narrowed and a half smile appeared on his lips, "I thought Ron made that pretty clear at the feast the other day."

_Mudblood_ the word rang through Hermione's mind.

"No," she muttered, shaking her head as though trying to make the whole thing go away, "no, I don't believe you."

With a clatter as his chair fell backwards, Harry stood up suddenly, resting his hands on the table in front of him and leaning forwards so that his face was just inches from hers. "Well, you had better believe it. I have to say, you have had your….uses over the last six years but now you have worn out your usefulness so why don't you do us all a favour and fuck off!" The last two words came out louder than the rest and several people around gasped and looked in their direction.

Hermione took a step backwards and straightened her back, desperately trying to hold in the tears and maintain her composure. She felt a million emotions at once but mainly she felt as though she had been stabbed in the chest. He was saying these words to hurt her and it was working. He was trying to hurt her and so she wanted to hurt him. Without even thinking about it she drew back her hand and slapped him hard across the face. The sound echoed around the stone walls and everyone who was watching was silent. Without another word, Hermione turned and disappeared into the stacks, searching for the isolated table at the back that she had been working the other night.

As soon as she sat down, her self-control broke and the tears started pouring hysterically down her cheeks. She gasped for breath as she sobbed loudly, not caring if anyone saw or heard. She let her head fall onto her folded arms on the table in front of her and she cried hard.

It was the sound of something being dropped on the desk before her that broke her out of her hysteria. Her head snapped up and her eyes rested on a small pile of parchment. She picked them up to examine them…Transfiguration notes. She gasped and looked up to see who had given her them.

For the second time in five minutes her breath left her as she recognised the retreating form of Draco Malfoy.

**A/N That's it guys, hope u enjoyed it. A couple of you picked up on Hermione not eating, well done, I tried really hard to make her meal skipping sound casual so that it wouldn't be obvious n I hope it worked.**

**I've practically got chapter 5 written so its just gotta be finished off n beta-ed but it shouldn't be too long.**

**Please review, u don't realise how happy it makes me :-) **


	6. Keeping Up Appearances

Chapter 5

**A/N Hi everyone, sorry this chapter took me so long, I've had technical difficulties. Anyway, to be honest, I don't really like this chapter very much. It's got some Draco-insight to it but not much really dramatic happens. The next chapter will be much more eventful, I promise. I hope you all don't hate this too much. Whether you like it or not please review. **

**Anyway, I've got a mission for you all…should you choose to accept it. I've worked out that if everyone who has this story on their alert list posts a review, then we might be able to get to 100 reviews!! How good will that be!! I promise if you succeed in this mission then I will put some super-cool Hermione/Draco interaction in chapter 6.**

**Thanks to larubinita, as always.**

**xxx**

Keeping Up Appearances

Chapter 5

_She looked at the police officer standing to her right, trying desperately to hear what he was saying. His voice was quiet as though he were speaking to her from a great distance rather that just a few feet away._

"_Go on, Miss Granger, which one was it?"_

_She looked around, trying to work out where she was. She was in a small, dark room. There were no chairs, no tables, nothing except a huge window on one wall. She realised she was stood behind a two-way mirror. Looking through the glass she recognised four people standing in a line, each with a number above their heads. First was Ron, then Lord Voldemort, then Harry and finally Malfoy._

"_Three," she heard herself say, "Number three. Harry."_

_The policeman nodded and said something into his radio. A few moments later, two other officers entered the room on the other side of the mirror, one holding handcuffs and the other a heavy-looking baton. To Hermione's horror, they didn't approach Harry but instead Malfoy. Without a word, he was struck with the club on the back of his head by one while the other cuffed his hands behind his back._

"_No," said Hermione, turning to the policeman by her side, "It wasn't him. It was Harry. Stop them!"_

"_It's okay, Miss Granger," he replied, not taking his eyes off the scene, "we know it was him. We know you meant to say number four."_

"_No!" she cried, feeling more frantic as Malfoy was dragged, unconscious, to his feet. "It wasn't him!" She shook the policeman's arm desperately but he paid her no attention, as though she wasn't even there. Frenzied, she began to bang on the glass, trying to make someone hear her but no-one paid her any mind. _

"_NO!" she shouted one more time, tears rolling down her cheeks, "IT WASN'T…"_

"DRACO!" Hermione sat up suddenly in her bed and it took her a moment to realise that she was awake. Her pyjamas were soaked and sticking to her body, and she was amazed to find tears rolling down her cheeks. Her breathing was rapid and she lay back down, trying to calm herself.

_That was strange_, she thought. She glanced at the clock by her bed and discovered it was only four a.m. Sighing deeply, she tried in vain for several moments to work out what her dream meant but eventually decided on only one thing: 0it was too early to be thinking so in-depthly. With this thought she turned over and went back to sleep. By morning her dream was forgotten.

For the first time in days, Hermione woke up feeling something other than gut-wrenching grief and depression. She felt angry. She could feel her blood boiling as she thought of the things Harry had said to her in the library the night before and how stupid she was to think they might have actually changed their minds and want her to be friends with them again. If they could be so callous about how little her friendship had meant to them, then so could she.

She got out of bed and stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, hands rested on the sides of the sink, and surveyed her appearance. She looked worn, tired. But despite this, there was something new: a spark in her eyes that hadn't been there when she had gone to bed last night. She stood up straight and brushed her hair back out of her eyes.

She felt different as well. She felt empowered and strong. She was sick to death of moping around as though the world had ended and wasn't going to do it anymore. With a slight smile at her reflection, she turned away and stepped into the steaming hot shower. Over the last week, she had made a spectacle of herself more times than she would like to in a lifetime. First, over her fight with Malfoy; secondly, when she passed out in Dumbledore's office, (she cringed slightly as she recalled the incident) and then last night when she had argued with, and slapped (that memory made her smile a little), Harry in the library. No doubt, by now, she would be the talk of the school.

_Oh well,_ she thought, _let them talk._

She dried her hair into waves and applied the makeup that her mother had given her but she never wore.

_If I'm going to be stared at then I might as well look good._

It was Saturday so no uniforms were required so she dressed simply in a pair of jeans and a red vest top. When she was done she stood before the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom and looked at herself.

_One more thing to get ready._

She let her expression fall into a cool, controlled mask of indifference. It wouldn't be an easy thing for her to maintain. Hermione, after all, usually wore her heart on her sleeve, but she would try. She was fed up with people seeing her break down and she was determined it wouldn't happen again.

She thought, briefly, of Draco Malfoy who wore his mask as a permanent feature, never letting it falter for an instant. Years of being the son of the most notorious Death Eater in the world would probably require the ability to hide your emotions. In fact, the only time Hermione had ever seen any indication from him that he was anything but a cold, malicious Death Eater in the making was the previous night when he had given her his Transfiguration notes without a single snide comment. This act had confused her greatly and she had laid awake late thinking of his motives. The thought had crossed her mind that, perhaps, he was actually a decent human being but she quickly pushed it aside, instead deciding to settle on the much more likely explanation that she was his project partner and he didn't want her to drag his grade down because she was under-prepared. She didn't allow herself to think about him any longer and she picked up her book bag and headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Her confidence vanished almost the instant she laid eyes on the doors of the Great Hall. She could hear the chatter of hundreds of her fellow students on the other side of the heavy wood and her nerves took over.

Last night, Hermione Granger slapped the Boy-Who-Lived, rather publicly, across the face. She could imagine the rumours that were circulating about her motives and she cringed. No doubt she would be Public Enemy Number One for smacking the so-called saviour of the wizarding world.

She sighed in exasperation and raked her fingers through her hair.

_Why couldn't I have hit Ron?_ she thought with frustration. Yes, there would still be gossip and speculation but no-one would have felt as though she had physically assaulted one of the greatest heroes in history.

She spun around, deciding to simply skip breakfast and head to the library where she could hide out in her little, secluded spot and catch up on her homework, but before she could take a step forward the image of Madame Pomfrey's foreboding face appeared in her memory. If she was discovered to be missing any more meals, the school nurse would come down on her harder than a tonne of bricks and she would, no doubt, be kicked of her healing internship before it had even started.

Hermione sighed and turned back around to face the doors. She could do this. She didn't have a choice. Taking a moment to compose herself, she straightened her back and held her head high, once again fixing her mask firmly in place. With a final deep breath, she pushed open the doors to the Great Hall and stepped inside.

The noise level dropped almost the second her hand touched the door handle and nearly every face in the bustling Great Hall turned to look her way. Hermione didn't falter at her greeting and continued the walk forwards, with her head up, towards the emptier end of the Gryffindor table. The walk seemed to take forever, with every footstep echoing around the massive room. Out of the corner of her eye she spotted the boys already sitting down with Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil stood at either side of Harry, apparently in the midst of fussing over his so-called 'injury'. Though Hermione would have loved to turn and face her former friends and get a good look at Harry's face and see if her hand had left a mark she didn't dare. She could only maintain her composure as long as she kept her eyes straight and focused on the chair she was heading for.

Silence continued to ring around the Hall until Hermione sat down and reached for a nearby piece of toast then the noise erupted as though someone had suddenly turned up the volume. All around her people were whispering, some trying to be subtle in their gossiping and others rather unashamedly.

"Oh, Harry," Parvati's voice rang out above the crowd, "your poor face. Are you okay? _She _didn't hurt you too much, did she?"

Hermione cringed inwardly - being very careful not to make her discomfort obvious - at the vengeance the Patil twin put into the word 'she'. It would appear that she had managed to turn the whole of the Gryffindor house against herself as well as her two best friends. She had known that morning when she woke up that public opinion of her would be less that favourable, but hearing her own housemates talk about her as though she were a Slytherin still hurt. She tried desperately to give herself a pep talk in her head and keep her back straight as she ate.

_What do you care what Parvati thinks? s_he thought. Y_ou are stronger than this. If you can survive Harry and Ron turning their backs of you then you can certainly handle the rest of them._

She nodded to herself slightly and reached for the scrambled eggs, glancing down at her watch as she did so. The morning she had promised herself that she would spend at least 20 minutes at breakfast. That seemed like an appropriate amount of time to eat and prove to the school that she was not going to be phased by the boys' actions anymore. Her watch told her that she had been there for ten minutes already.

_Halfway there._

As she ate, she tried to discretely listen to the conversation her old friends were having further down the table.

"I don't know why she did it either," Ron was saying even though his mouth was stuffed full. "She just went mental. One minute me and Harry were doing our homework in the library, the next she had marched over and demanded that we give her our Transfiguration notes. She didn't even say 'please'. Then, when Harry said that he hadn't finished with them yet, she just smacked him. She's a complete nutter, that one. Don't know how we put up with her for so many years."

Despite her best efforts, Hermione's mask fell upon hearing Ron's words and she felt tears begin to sting in her eyes.

_To Hell with 20 minutes. This is too hard._

She dropped her fork onto her still-full plate and reached down for her bag from the floor. She was getting out of there.

"Hermione." She looked up at her name, slightly startled that anyone was actually speaking to her, and looked into the kindly face of Ben Thompson. "Do you mind if I join you?" he asked.

She gaped at him momentarily, knowing she probably looked liked an idiot, weighing up the options of staying or leaving. Finally, she shook her head to clear her thoughts.

"Yes, of course, Ben," she answered and he smiled, sitting opposite her. "I wanted to thank you anyway. For catching me the other day."

Ben grinned, "No problem. I always like to save a damsel in distress."

Hermione laughed. For the rest of her breakfast, she and Ben chatted about mainly meaningless things. He did not ask her about her fainting incident, nor did he mention her fight with Harry. He simply asked her whether she was feeling better and offered her his notes from the Potions lesson she had missed. She was grateful, both for his notes and his discretion, and by the time she had finished her breakfast and exited the Great Hall she had been in there thirty-two minutes.

Draco Malfoy paced backwards and forwards in his dorm room, still holding the piece of parchment in his hand. He knew better by now than to open a letter from his Father in the Great Hall and so had waited until he got back to his dormitories, and dismissed Crabbe and Goyle, until he opened it. He was not happy with its contents and they were the cause of his now irritated pacing. He stopped and sat down at his desk, placing the letter in front of him, re-reading it.

_Draco,_

_As you already know, this is a very important year and I intend for you to play a vital role in it. The Dark Lord has received intelligence that there is some sort of quarrel going on between Potter and his Mudblood girlfriend and he feels that he could use this to his advantage. Therefore, he requires for you to find out as much information as possible about the conflict and pass on anything that may be of use to him through me._

_I expect for you to approach this task with your full efforts. It is a great honour that our Master has asked for you, personally, to conduct this mission and I hope you appreciate that._

_This is a great step for the Malfoys and I know that you will complete it with all the greatness that I expect._

_Your father,_

_Lucius Malfoy_

Malfoy scoffed at his Father's signature. He always felt the need to sign his letters in the same way as though Draco didn't know who his father was and so needed him to put his name at the bottom of his correspondence. He knew that Lucius was really putting his full name as a reminder to his only son that he was, and always would be, a Malfoy and was expected to behave as one.

This, though, was not the part of the letter that was causing him distress. It was his new 'mission' as his Father called it.

Draco knew that Lucius Malfoy had served the Dark Lord since he had first come to power. The operative word being 'served'. For as long as he could remember, Draco had been taught the pureblood ideals that his father lived by so determinedly. That they as Malfoys were superior to many other pureblood families because of their long heritage, let alone those whom had contaminated their blood by marrying half-bloods or, worse, Muggles. All through his childhood, Draco had heard and accepted this and, don't misunderstand, he still believed so now. He knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was better than most, if not all, of the other students in this school. This was the problem. The Malfoys were too important and too distinguished to be 'serving' someone else. They should be the ones with all the power. The ones other people followed and obeyed.

Draco remembered the exact moment that he realised for the first time that perhaps his father was wrong to be working for the Dark Lord. The moment he realised his father was nothing more than a slave.

_Draco awoke on his seventeenth birthday feeling excited. Not because, as most people did on their birthdays, he would be getting presents or a cake or a party. He would, of course be getting those things but they were not the reason for his excitement. It was because that night his father would be taking him to see the man who, up until today, Draco had just heard about in wonderful stories. _

_It was dark when Lucius knocked on his son's bedroom door and told him it was time. They both dressed in black and Apparated to an ancient-looking house in the middle of nowhere. _

_As he stood outside, looking up at the building, Draco couldn't help but be slightly disappointed. He expected the Dark Lord to live in great wealth and luxury. A castle. This house, though once grand, was run-down and in desperate need of repair. It was shabby, the once-white paint peeling from the stone walls and the windows broken. _

"_Son." Draco tore his eyes away from the house and towards his father. "This will be one of the greatest moments of your life. Take it all in."_

I am,_ Draco thought, _that's the problem.

_He didn't voice his opinions though, instead just nodded. He watched his father pull up his black hood, covering his bright hair, and place the pale Death Eater mask over his face. Draco copied the motion of putting up his hood but he didn't have a mask yet. For the first time that day, he felt nervous. He knew that Lucius fully expected the Dark Lord to welcome his son with open arms but Draco wasn't so sure. He knew Voldemort had a volatile temper and he was terrified that he would say the wrong thing and be killed on the spot. Taking one deep breath, he followed his father into the old house._

_The inside was just as run-down as the outside and Draco scowled as his expensive black cloak brushed against the dusty floor. They entered a room that looked as though it was once a dining room but now it was empty of furniture apart from one high-backed chair at the far end. Sitting there was the Dark Lord himself. His appearance was nothing short of terrifying and Draco did as he had been instructed and attempted to take in as much detail as possible. Lord Voldemort was tall, thin, and snake-like with unnaturally white skin, wide scarlet eyes and slits for nostrils. He was cloaked, unsurprisingly, in black and in his fingers he twirled his wand absent-mindedly. _

"_My Lord," Lucius stepped forward, without hesitation, and walked forward until he reached his Master. He fell to his knees and bowed at the Dark Lord's feet, touching his forehead to the bottom of Voldemort's robes. _

_Immediately, Draco felt sick. In his eyes, his father had always been strong, taking shit from no-one. When he entered a room, he radiated authority and commanded order. Yet, here he was, bowing at the feet of another man as though he were nothing but a House Elf. For the first time in his life, Draco looked at his father as weak. Didn't he know that as a Malfoy he could rule the world? But, he was here now following someone else._

"_This is my son, Draco."_

_Voldemort locked his eyes on Draco's and he could feel him attempting to read his thoughts. Immediately, more by instinct that anything else, Draco blocked him. He was very skilled at Occlumency, having been taught it from a young age and he was glad of that fact now. He realised, bitterly, that he had picked possibly the worst moment to start to have doubts about the Dark Lord and it would require all of his skills to hide that fact._

_Voldemort laughed sickly. "Very good, Young Malfoy. It would not do to let just anyone into your head. Come here."_

_He did as he was told, walking towards the man that all his anger and hate was now directed towards. It was because of this man that his father had been sent to Azkaban, and it was only due to the Malfoy's wealth and good connections that he had got back out again. His supposed 'Master' had done nothing to release his right-hand man from that hell-hole of a prison. _

_When he reached Voldemort, he bowed at the waist. He had no intention of grovelling like his Father had. The Dark Lord surveyed him for several moments before he spoke._

"_So, Young Malfoy, you wish to serve me as your father does?"_

_In his head, Draco was screaming 'NO' but he could not let his mouth betray his thoughts else he would be killed where he stood. _

"_Yes, Sir," he replied, keeping his face cold and hard._

_Voldemort nodded, as though considering. "Young Malfoy," he spoke after what seemed like an age, "Wait outside. I would like to speak to your father alone."_

_Malfoy nodded and bowed, slightly surprised at the sudden dismissal, but eager to get out of the room as soon as possible._

_As soon as the doors shut behind him, Draco leaned against a nearby wall, letting himself sink to the ground, no longer caring if his clothes got dirty. The speed at which his new realisation had hit him came as a shock. His whole life had been planned out for him before he was even born and he had accepted it. He would attend school and perform with all the standards expected of a Malfoy until he was old enough to join the forces of Lord Voldemort like his father had when he had left Hogwarts. He would rise up through the ranks quickly, after all he was his father's son, and he would dedicate his life to the cause._

_But in a matter of five minutes that had all come crashing down. The moment he had seen his father grovelling at the feet of that man, everything had changed. He was a Malfoy and he would NOT spend his life obeying others. He would be obeyed. He knew his father wouldn't see it like that though._

_At that moment, the doors reopened and Lucius walked through them. Draco jumped to his feet quickly._

_Malfoys do not sit on the floor._

_His father was too happy to notice his son's lack of decorum, however._

"_Good news, Draco! You have impressed the Dark Lord. He wishes you to receive the Dark Mark next week."_

Draco had felt like his world was spinning and to this day he couldn't remember how he had managed to get home without alerting his Father of his traitorous thoughts. As he sat down on his bed at Hogwarts he let the letter fall to the floor. He had managed to convince his Father to put off him getting the Dark Mark for another year, insisting it would be too dangerous while he was still at school and so close to Dumbledore. Lucius had been reluctant but had agreed and Draco was set to receive it on the night of his graduation.

Since then, Draco had spent his time thinking up ways that he could get out of it but so far he had been unsuccessful. He had managed to keep up his façade of future Death Eater in front of both his parents and fellow students whom were also due to join the group before long.

He supposed that, perhaps, this whole mess was the reason for his momentary insanity the night before when he gave Granger his Transfiguration notes. At the time it was an impulsive thing. He had, of course, seen her big blow up with Potter. He'd noticed the moment she stepped through the door.

Obviously, he was angry at her for showing him up in Potions and he'd been on his feet, ready to give her a telling off when he had noticed the way she was breathing rapidly and wringing her hands. She was nervous, scared even. He definitely knew that look. So he had stopped to watch and couldn't believe his eyes when he saw the confrontation between the so-called Golden Trio and Granger subsequently slapping Potter.

Now, Draco had respect for anyone who could give Harry Potter a good whack, even if it was Hermione Granger, and he found he wasn't so much angry at her anymore, but rather curious. Of course, being a Malfoy, he saw his own personal advantage to the situation in front of him and realised that giving Granger his Transfiguration notes would be an effective form of rebellion against his father, even if he didn't know about it. He had lost all respect for the man and was willing to do almost anything to get back at him for being such a disappointment.

Draco no longer had any intention of following in his Father's footsteps and certainly had no intention of becoming Voldemort's slave. But now, he glanced down at the slightly crumpled letter at his feet, he was being forced to become his spy which was almost as bad.

With a sigh, Draco went back over to his desk, took out a fresh piece of parchment and started writing.

_Father,_

_I understand my task. So far I have not noticed much out of the ordinary. The Mudblood, Weasley and Potter do seem to be having some sort of row but it doesn't appear to be anything serious. They have had several arguments over the years, mainly due to Weasley being such a hot head, but nothing of any importance and I do not believe this to be any different. _

_I will continue to do my duty, of course, and inform you of any developments._

_Your son,_

_Draco Malfoy_

Draco put down his quill and re-read his letter.

_Yes, _he thought, _I will play the perfect future Death Eater._

**A/N There you go everyone. Don't forget your mission!!**

**xx**


	7. Truce

Chapter 6

**A/N Hi everyone, sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter out, I've started back a uni and so things got a bit busy for a while. Anyway, I said at the beginning of the last chapter that I didn't like it very much but I like this one a lot better. Plus, there's more Hermione/Draco interaction.**

**Before I start, there are a few people I want to thank. As always, I want to thank my beta, la rubinita, who managed to get this chapter back to me in 8 HOURS! Despite the fact that her life has gotten very busy at they moment, the least of which is due to her newly-discovered pregnancy. So I want to say a big CONGRATULATIONS and dedicate this chapter to the unborn (and hopefully female) Poppy Marie.**

**Secondly, I want to thank all of those people who have reviewed. I love you all. I want to give a special mention, though, to Kazfeist and Pstibbons who both mentioned putting in a scene showing Dumbledore's reaction. This wasn't something I had thought about but I've included it in this chapter and have even stolen a suggested quote from Pstibbons' review.**

**I want to say that I welcome any and all suggests, so please review if there's anything you thing I should put in.**

**Anyway, I've rabbited on long enough so on with the chapter. I hope you enjoy it!**

**xxxx**

Truce

Chapter 6

Hermione spent the rest of the morning at what she now referred to as _her_ table in the library, copying the notes from the classes she had missed the previous day. She and Ben had parted ways after leaving the Great Hall, both having separate things to occupy their mornings. She was much more grateful to the Head Boy than she believed he knew. His simple act of kindness during breakfast had restored a small part of her faith in people that she had lost since the day she had returned to school.

She was proud of herself for effectively managing to make it through the spectacle that was breakfast, and managing to maintain what remained of her dignity at the same time. But she knew that if Ben hadn't appeared at that exact moment her composure would have been lost and she would have fled the Great Hall as fast as she could.

She sighed as she recalled Ron's words. It would appear that her former friends were not content in abandoning her themselves but they also had to make her seem crazy to everyone else as well. And it was working; the drop in volume as she had entered the hall proved that.

As it was, Hermione found herself experiencing some rather extreme mood swings: jumping from angry and indignant to horribly depressed at the drop of a hat. Sometimes she felt strong and confident. Who cares if her friends have fucked off? She spent most of her childhood alone and not only survived but became one of the greatest witches Hogwarts has seen, and Head Girl to boot. She doesn't need _them._ How dare they think that they can just turn their backs on her as though she were as disposable as an empty sweet wrapper? It was their loss. They would regret it next time they were stuck with a homework problem or needed to come up with a plan of action. She was better off without them.

But, and she hated to admit it, she _wanted_ them. Granted, she could survive without them but she desperately didn't want to. She wanted to spend her evenings sitting in the Gryffindor common room watching the boys play chess and laughing at Ron's stupid jokes. She wanted to be in the stands during Quidditch matches, surrounded by her fellow housemates, cheering on her two best friends until her throat was sore. She wanted to be around people she loved and who loved her. But that was all gone.

Though she had originally seen her new quarters as a blessing, a prize, she now felt as though they were going even further to isolate her from everyone else. She was starting to spend any time that she wasn't in classes by herself, either in her rooms or in the back of the library, and she was feeling desperately lonely. How could they think that they could just turn their backs on her as though she were as disposable as an empty sweet wrapper? Didn't they know that she loved them? It was her loss.

Unfortunately, it was this second mood that Hermione was in as she wandered through the stacks, trying to find a book she wanted, and spotted Draco Malfoy sitting at a table, almost as isolated as her own, surrounded by piles of books and parchment. She sighed. Typical. It was just typical that out of the only two acts of kindness that had been directed her way since they had come back to Hogwarts one of them would have been from the boy who was _supposed_ to hate her, especially after their little incident in Potions the other day. The other thing that was typical was that, after copying up Malfoy's notes, she had come to the unhappy conclusion that it would not be possible for them to split their Transfiguration project in two as they had originally planned. There were items on the list that McGonagall had given them that required knowledge from the others items. Long story, short…they were going to have to do it together.

Hermione sighed again. _Might as well get it over with. _She returned to her table and retrieved the notes Malfoy had loaned her, (she had, of course, already finished with them) and headed back to where he was working. Remaining out of sight, she repeated her ritual from that morning in front of the mirror, and attempted to control her features and secure a mask of indifference.

Taking a deep breath she stepped forward, "Malfoy," he looked up from his work and surveyed her for a moment. Hermione couldn't help but admire how his expression of uncaring didn't even flicker as he saw her standing in front of him. It was almost as though his worst enemy approached him every day.

_Or maybe he was expecting you,_ said the little voice in her head but she ignored it.

"Yes, Granger?" he drawled, turning his attention back to the sheets in front of him.

"I just wanted to return your notes and thank you," she was pleased to find that her voice was cold and steady when she spoke. He nodded, not looking up from his work. "They are meticulous, by the way. I was impressed."

"Malfoy's always perform to the best of their ability," he said, as though reciting from a book.

_More likely from his father,_ Hermione thought, and for a moment she felt sorry for him. Living such a restricted life with Lucius for a father. She couldn't imagine he had had much fun as a child. She imagined Malfoy as a young boy taking lessons in etiquette and manners, being raised by house elves instead of his parents. She quickly shook the image from her head. He was probably also taking lessons on 'How to be an Effective Servant of the Dark Lord' and 'How to Kill a Mudblood in Three Easy Steps'.

"Anyway," she continued, "I don't know if you've realised but…"

"…we're going to have to work together. I know," he said, finishing her sentence. "I'm about to go and get some lunch but we can meet back here afterwards and get started."

She was surprised at how readily he had accepted the idea. She was expecting to have to argue with him about it.

_Probably just thinking about his grades,_ said the voice in her head, and she agreed. That was also the reason that she had accepted as to why he had loaned her his notes.

When she didn't reply, Malfoy looked up from his work for the first time since their 'conversation' (_Am I having a conversation with Malfoy?)_ had started and raised his eyebrow questioningly.

She shook herself out of her daze, "Yes, of course," she stammered slightly, still surprised, "I'll meet you here after lunch." Without another word, she turned on her heel and returned to her own table, trying desperately to make sense of what had just happened.

* * *

At lunch, Hermione couldn't help but watch Malfoy from across the Hall. To be honest, it was a welcome distraction from all the not-so-discrete whispering that was going on around her. Though it wasn't as obvious as this morning, it was still going to take longer than a few hours for the scandal of her slapping Harry to go away. Thankfully, the boys were sat at the other end of the table so that she couldn't hear what they were saying about her and it was much easier for her to ignore them. Instead she tried, subtly, to observe the blond boy at the Slytherin table and see if there were any clues that might indicate the reason for his sudden lack of hostilities towards her. Not that she was complaining, of course. She couldn't see any.

When she returned to the library, gathered her things, and arrived at Malfoy's table she found that he was already there are had cleared a space for her to work in. She sat down warily and began to lay out the things she would need.

"Okay," started Malfoy, looking serious and professional, "I think that we should start at the top of the list McGonagall gave us and work our way down. I've got all the books we should need," he indicated to a small stack of textbooks on his right, many of which she also had copies. "They have the basics for organic transfiguration and I had this one," he handed her a small, leather-bound book, "in my personal collection."

Hermione looked at the title of they book he had given her, _The Ultimate Guide to Survival: How to Stay Alive Using Just Your Wand._ Flicking through the pages she noticed spells to create shelter, a permanent warming charm that you could use on, for example, a blanket and even some basic first aid spells. She paid particular interest to the latter, planning on copying them down and practicing them later.

"Have you got your half of the list?" he asked her. She nodded and searched through her notes until she found the bottom half of piece of parchment that Malfoy had torn apart a few days earlier. She laid it out on the table in front of them and he placed his half above it before muttering '_Reparo' _and watching the two halves join together.

An odd sensation came over Hermione as she watched the two torn pieces of parchment magic themselves back together again, becoming whole. She shook the feeling away, having had quite enough of things she couldn't explain and looked at her project partner. Draco's expression gave away no indication of what he was thinking, but his eyes were glued on the list and he seemed to hesitate before putting his wand away.

At last, he cleared his throat. "Right, let's get started."

The pair spent the next few hours in relative peace working on their project and Hermione, for one, found it rather disconcerting. True, they weren't fighting, which was obviously a good thing, but there weren't even any snide comments or insults. Granted, they weren't friendly but they were professional and productive. Though she hated to admit it, Hermione could even say that they made a good team. The transfigurations they had been assigned were much more difficult than either of them had originally thought and Hermione was pleased that Malfoy appeared to be almost as bright, hard-working and serious about the assignment as she was.

Despite this, however, she couldn't help but feel wary. The lack of any hostility from Malfoy was perplexing and she was reluctant to let her guard down around him, no matter how amiable he was being.

The whole situation was giving her a headache. She felt as though her whole world had been turned upside down. One week ago, if someone had told her that she would no longer be friends with Harry and Ron and would be working, quite cordially, with Draco Malfoy she would have had them shipped off to join Gilderoy Lockhart in St. Mungo's. Yet, here she was, doing that very thing and she felt as though she were losing her mind. She put down her quill and rubbed her eyes, tiredly.

"Need a break, Granger? You look like shit." She looked up at Malfoy and glared though she couldn't be bothered to come up with a retort, partly because she was so tired and her head was hurting but partly because she was actually secretly pleased that he had insulted her and was acting a bit more like his bad old self. Also, he was right. She did look like shit and she did need a break. She sighed, for what felt like the millionth time that day and reached into her bag for a headache potion. Drinking it quickly, she was relieved to feel her pain ebbing away.

"Careful, Granger," Malfoy said with a smirk, "that's the second one of those I've seen you take in as many days. Wouldn't want you to end up a potions-addict and get carted off to the hospital wing again."

Hermione glared at him for a second time, "What do you care, _Malfoy_? I'd have thought you would love to get rid of me."

"Oh, I would," he exclaimed, "Always nice to have one less Mudblood around, but my grades would be considerably effected if I was forced to do this stupid assignment on my own."

Hermione scowled at the name he called her, amazed at just how quickly they had slipped back into their old routine. She was getting really sick of that word and people around her using it, but she calmed her expression and adopted one of innocence, "I wouldn't have thought you cared about your marks," she said sweetly, "Or does Voldemort have a minimum number of NEWTs he wants his Death Eaters to have nowadays?"

As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she'd said the wrong thing. Malfoy's expression darkened and his eyes pierced into hers with a look of complete hatred. He stood up, resting his hands on the table, and leaned forwards so that his face was only inches from hers. When he spoke, his voice was low and full of loathing, "Do not talk about shit that you do not understand." With that he gathered his things and walked away, leaving Hermione looking dumbfounded.

* * *

That night, Hermione lay in bed thinking about what had happened with Malfoy. What surprised her most was the speed at which everything seemed to have gone south. One minute they were working in, admittedly, not the most comfortable of situations, but in peace nonetheless, and the next he'd stormed off, looking as though he wanted nothing more than to rip her hair out. She could understand the arguing, after all that's what they did best, but what she couldn't understand was why he had reacted so violently to her implication that he would join Voldemort. It's not as though Draco Malfoy, the Death Eater was a new concept.

She shook her head. She would never understand him any more than she would ever understand what was going on through Harry and Ron's heads right now. So then, Hermione Granger did something she had never done before…she gave up trying to work things out. She quit trying to solve a problem and she just rolled over, burying her face into her pillow and went to sleep.

* * *

The next day, Hermione woke up in a foul mood. Even she did not know the reason for it but she supposed no-one could blame her, between her dramas with Harry and Ron and her spats with Malfoy, she was having quite possibly the worst week of her life. So when she woke up that Sunday morning feeling angry at the world, she didn't fight it. She was sick of being reasonable; sick of being the good girl. For once in her life she was going to be well and truly pissed off, and she didn't care one bit.

A hot shower and some clean clothes didn't do much to quell her temper and by the time she reached the Great Hall for breakfast she was in a worse mood than ever. Not hesitating at the oak doors as she had the previous day she stormed into the Hall and sat down at the nearest empty seat, immediately filling her mug with hot coffee and piling food onto her plate. She began eating quickly, fuming silently, and all was going well until the two people she least wanted to see entered the room and took their seats just a few spaces down the table from her. To make things worse, the boys were accompanied, once again, by Lavender and Parvati who seemed to have taken to fawning over Harry and Ron, any chance they got. She looked up as they sat down and, unintentionally, caught the red-head's eye.

Ron smirked as he saw her looking, "What's the matter, Granger?" his tone was one of mocking, "Miss me?"

"Right! That's it!" Hermione threw her fork down on her plate, causing it to clatter noisily and stood quickly, marching over to where her former-friends were sitting. Ron looked startled for a moment but quickly recovered and rose to meet her. He was a good foot taller than Hermione but at that moment she neither noticed nor cared. She was not going to let him get to her anymore. "I am so sick of this SHIT!"

All around the pair, the Gryffindors went quiet, noticing the building row. Throughout the Hall, the other houses noticed the sudden drop in volume and turned their attentions to see what was going on. Realising what was happening, several students at the Hufflepuff table (the one furthest away) stood up to see better and someone at the Slytherin table (probably Blaise Zabini) began waving money in the air and calling for bets.

"Weasley versus Granger, ladies and gentlemen, who will it be?" Several students could be seen handing over Galleons and shouting their favourites. Even the teachers were looking on in curiosity, none of them willing to break the upcoming spectacle up just yet.

Neither Hermione nor Ron, however, noticed any of this; they were too focused on maintaining their eye contact, neither one wanting to be the first to look away. "I am so sick," Hermione continued, spitting her words into Ron's face with such venom that people around them were surprised it didn't burn, "of you and Mr Boy-Who-Fucking-Lived over there," Harry stood as he was brought into the conversation but was held back by Ginny's hand on his. Sighing, he sat back down, deciding to let his friend deal with this one, "thinking that you can just treat me like shit! I am not just some toy that you can play with and dismiss when you get bored with it. I am supposed to be your best-fucking-friend."

To his credit, Ron didn't falter as some lesser men would have done under the ferocious gaze of Hermione Granger. "Correction, Granger. You WERE my best-fucking-friend, you're not any more. Why can't you just accept that and leave me and Harry the hell alone?"

"Because I've had no explanation," yelled Hermione back in his face, forgetting that they were standing in the middle of a room full of people and not even noticing that they were currently making their personal rows very, very public. "I've had nothing from either of you except from a lack of letters during the summer and a few harsh words. I'm supposed to just accept that as the end of a six year friendship?"

"YES! Maybe for once in your bloody life you should just believe that there isn't a secret, mystery explanation. We just don't want to be your friend anymore!"

"I have accepted that you've just abandoned me. You made that pretty clear the other day when you called me a MUDBLOOD!" There was a collective gasp from around the Great Hall and Ron was stunned to silence. Hermione, breathing heavily, took a step forward so that she was only inches from his face and lowered her voice, "And for the record, I don't want to be your friend any more either." With those final words, she turned and stormed out of the Hall, slamming the heavy door behind her as she did.

Almost as soon as she was out of sight the noise erupted. Applause broke out at the Slytherin table with Zabini shouting, "AND GRANGER WINS!" over the din. Gossiping and speculation filling the Great Hall and up at the Head table the teachers were looking at each other uncomfortably.

_We may have a problem,_ thought Dumbledore as he surveyed the Gryffindor table. Ron was still stood, like a statue, in some sort of daze. The Headmaster watched as Harry Potter, looking grim, took his friends arm and led him out of the room.

Draco Malfoy was still sat at the Slytherin table, looking amused, paying no attention to the voices around him but rather watching the spot Hermione had disappeared from moments earlier.

_Well done, girl,_ he thought, playing with the five shiny, new galleons in his pocket.

* * *

Hermione made no effort to calm down after she left the breakfast hall. For once she was actually glad to be angry, it meant that she wasn't upset and crying. She stormed through the corridors, hands balled into fists at her side, and didn't notice that her hair was crackling slightly, as though electrified. Not paying any attention to where she was going she was slightly surprised when she heard the doorway to the Room of Requirement materialise to her right.

She smiled when she entered the room and saw it empty except for a single punch bag hanging from the ceiling in the centre of the room and a pair of boxing gloves on the floor.

* * *

"Its okay, mate," consoled Harry, as he and his best friend headed through the halls of Hogwarts towards Dumbledore's office. The two boys had barely reached the Gryffindor common room after the 'incident' in the Great Hall, when Dobby arrived and informed them that the Headmaster wished to see them immediately, "She was bound to blow up eventually. This is Hermione we're talking about. She's not a shrinking violet."

"Believe it or not, I know that, Harry," Ron snapped in frustration, "She just had to do it in front of the whole bloody school. I'm public enemy number one now."

Harry sighed, not knowing what to say to make things seem better. Though he hated to admit it, he had considered that he was making a mistake. Perhaps Hermione was strong enough to survive being Voldemort's target. Almost as soon as the thought entered his mind, however, he shook his head, trying to shake it away. He wasn't prepared to take that risk. Though she might not believe it at the moment, he loved her and if he had to hurt her to save her life then so be it.

As soon as they entered Dumbledore's office, Harry knew something was wrong. The air was too hot and tight, and the image of their Headmaster sitting behind his desk, staring at them with a look of pure anger, was enough to make Harry understand how he was the only man Voldemort ever feared.

"Sit." The two boys did as they were instructed, each feeling as though they were seven again instead of seventeen. Harry was vaguely aware that this was the first time that he had ever entered Dumbledore's office and not been offered a sweet. This must be bad.

For several moments, the old man just watched them, as though trying to read their expressions and when he finally spoke Harry felt Ron jump slightly to his left. "What did you do?"

The Boy-Who-Lived straightened his back and forced himself to meet Dumbledore's gaze. "It was for her own good," he said, his voice quivering only slightly, which he hoped the Head teacher didn't notice. "We were trying to protect her."

"I'm sure you thought you were," replied Dumbledore, "but you are wrong. Miss Granger is one of your greatest assets in this war and you are a fool to push her away."

Harry stood suddenly, making Ron jump again, and placed his hands on the desk in front of him, leaning forward to meet his teacher's eyes. He didn't know where this new-found confidence was coming from all of a sudden but he was damn-well going with it. "No, I'm not a fool. I'm trying to save her life," his voice was insistent, as though he were desperate to make the man before him understand that his motives were true. "I am making her a target by being her friend and she doesn't need to be. This is for her own good," he repeated his words from earlier sounding much surer of himself than he did the first time.

Not fazed by Harry's unexpected force, Dumbledore merely raised his eyebrows and said, totally calmly, with complete certainty, "Mr Potter," he spoke quietly, "I do believe that you may have just lost us this war."

* * *

An hour later, when Hermione entered the library she felt much calmer. Her knuckles were sore and she was sweating slightly but she didn't notice. She felt more relaxed, stronger and was actually quite proud of herself for the telling off she had, very publicly, given Ron.

As she headed towards the back of the room, she passed several students who stopped working and watched her as the walked by, no longer with looks of anger but admiration, but she paid them no heed. She was only here to see one person.

"Malfoy!" she said his name with slightly more force than she had intended but she shook her head internally and decided to just go with it. After all she had gone through in the past week, namely dealing with Harry and Ron's betrayal, saving that boy's life in the hospital wing and finally standing up for herself, she was damn well sure that she could deal with the arrogant brat that was Draco Malfoy.

He looked up from his work at the sound of his name being barked so vehemently with surprise and actually smiled when he saw who was standing before him. He leaned back in his chair and surveyed the fiery brunette with amusement. Hermione, however, noticed neither his expression nor his lack of a retort.

"I don't like you and you sure as hell don't like me but we've been stuck together on this bloody project and I don't intend to fail because you have got a gigantic stick up your arse and an unwarranted prejudice towards Muggleborns. So we are going to work together and we are going to do it in peace. There will be no name-calling, no mention of my family or yours, no talk of Voldemort or Death Eaters, no snide comments and if you even _think_ the word 'Mudblood' I will go straight to Professor McGonagall and have so many points taken off you that Slytherin will, without a doubt, come dead last this year. Do I make myself clear?" "Crystal, Granger," Malfoy smirked again.

Hermione furrowed her brow as she finally noticed his sudden uncharacteristic behaviour, "What are you grinning at?" she asked, her assertiveness fading, being replaced by confusion.

"Well," Draco started, leaning forward to rest his elbows on the table (a very un-aristocratic action) and waved for her to take a seat, "I owe you a thank-you."

Hermione's surprise was evident, "Whatever for?" she asked.

"For this," Malfoy dropped five, shiny galleons on the table between them and she looked down in confusion. Her eyes darted from the coins to their owner repeatedly, trying to make sense of what he was saying. She shrugged, indicating that she didn't understand and he continued, "Your little fight with the Weasel at lunch won me five galleons. Personally, I think anyone would be a fool to bet on Weasley over you. He doesn't have the _cajones_ that you do."

Despite herself, Hermione smiled at the compliment, willing to take any she could get at the moment, regardless of the source.

"As for your little…proposition," Draco went on, referring the list of demands she had sprouted upon approaching his table, "I have a certain amount of respect for _anyone_ who can give Weasleby a bollocking like that so we have a deal."

With these words, to Hermione's great shock, he held out his hand for her to shake.

"Are you serious?" she asked, gob-smacked.

"The enemy of my enemy is my friend, Granger," his voice sounded sincere and there was no mocking in his eyes so after only a moment's hesitation, she accepted his hand, ignoring the thought that popped into her mind about how soft his skin was or how gently he shook her hand, rather than squeezing it as hard as possible as she might have expected.

"Right then," he said, dropping her hand and turning his attention back to the parchment on the table, "we've got work to do."

**A/N There you go, hope you liked it, please review and let me know what you thought.**

**xxxx**


	8. Apart But Not Forgotten

**A/N Hi everyone. So, here is chapter 7 and I must admit that I really like this one. I hope you do to. I hope yas don't think its too OOC. I've tried to be really careful not to make it too farfetched and I think this is the 1****st**** chapter so far that I think really pushes it. Please let me know what you all think. **

**On a different topic, the nominations for the Dramione Awards kicks off today and I was wondering what you would all be voting for. I always like to take suggestions so that I can have a read and maybe vote for them myself. Maybe we could make predictions about a winner.**

**Anyway, I just want to thank my ever-fabulous beta la_rubinita who has got a brilliant story, worthy of the top stop, called The Beast Within. Check it out.**

**So, on with the chapter…..enjoy!**

Apart but not Forgotten

Chapter 7

_Dear Mum and Dad,_

_My first few weeks back at Hogwarts have been exceptionally enlightening. I have learned a lot already and feel as though this year is going to be a completely different experience from my first six years here, and I am ready to take any challenges that may be thrown my way._

_The first Prefect's meeting with me as Head Girl was very exciting and everyone was talking about it afterwards. I feel that I made quite an impression on those present. Professor Dumbledore even visited me personally afterwards to comment on my performance._

_Also, I have been offered an internship within the school's Hospital Wing where I can train with Madam Pomfrey to be a Healer. It's all very exciting._

_Harry and Ron have turned a new leaf this year and seem to be ridding themselves of some of the things that have previously distracted them from their studies. It's as though they are completely different people._

_We have been given an interesting assignment in one of my classes and, though I wasn't initially pleased with my partner, we have been working together every day for almost a week now and it has been surprisingly pleasant. I think that we work very well together and I am sure that, as always, I will achieve top marks._

_I miss you both terribly and can't wait to see you at Christmas._

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

_xxx_

"What are you writing?"

"Nothing." Hermione quickly covered the letter with her arms as her partner approached her in the library. Malfoy looked at her suspiciously for a moment before taking a seat opposite.

"Okay then," he started, "have you got those notes from yesterday?"

Hermione nodded and turned in her chair to grab her bag from the floor, and that's when it happened. The moment her arms left the table Draco, calling upon his seeker reflexes, shot his hand forward and snatched the piece of parchment she had been writing on.

"Hey!" Hermione stood up suddenly, causing her chair to fall backwards and clatter loudly in the quiet library, and tried to reach across the desk to get her letter back. Malfoy, however, was ready for her and in one fluid movement stood and stepped back out of her reach. "Malfoy, please. Give it back."

The blond grinned as he moved around the circular table, making sure he stayed opposite the seething Head Girl as she tried, desperately, to catch him. His eyes fell to the letter and as he read what was written the smile disappeared from his face. Hermione had stopped running to catch him and was now just stood, waiting for this horror to end.

_All my love,_

_Hermione_

When he had finished reading he looked up and met Hermione's eyes. What he saw there sent a chill down his spine. Sure, he had seen her cry before. Hell, he had even been the one to make her cry. But the pure sorrow he saw when he looked at her in that moment was something he had never seen. Not in anyone. There were no tears on her cheeks nor in her big, brown eyes but she looked broken. She had the look of someone who had cried until they were empty and had neither the energy, nor the heart to cry anymore. What he saw there terrified him.

He glanced down at the letter in his hand and looked back up. "I think they'll buy it," he said softly and passed the parchment back to its owner.

Draco watched Hermione chew the end of her quill as she stared into space, not paying any attention to what he had just said or to the book in front of her. She had been doing pretty much that exact same thing since he had read the letter to her parents an hour and a half ago.

"Okay," he said, standing up suddenly, causing Hermione's attention to snap back into focus. "Come on." He started gathering up the books and parchment that was scattered across their table and Hermione looked at him in confusion.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he took her cloak from the back of her chair and handed her it.

"Outside. We've done enough theory. Let's go and get some things from the grounds and start practicing the transfigurations."

* * *

Ten minutes later the pair was walking across the Hogwarts grounds, both wrapped up in scarves, gloves and hats in an attempt to ward off the cold. Despite this, Hermione wasn't surprised to see her own breath. Even though it was still only September, the weather taken a dramatic turn for the worse in the last week and the staff and students of Hogwarts had even woken up, the day before, to see the grass covered in a frosty shine.

Draco was quiet as they walked and Hermione was surprised by this. She would have bet money that if he had gotten his hands on her letter, he would have found it highly amusing and would have teased her endlessly about it, but he hadn't. He had even said something that she thought was an attempt to make her feel better. She found this new side of Draco Malfoy both confusing and intriguing, and was dying to know what was going on in his head.

There was one thing that she'd written in her letter that was actually true and that was that the past week working with Malfoy had been surprisingly pleasant. They worked as an extremely effective team and were flying through the assigned reading for their project as well as some extra. Unexpectedly, there had been some bickering (you can't change a six-year habit in a matter of days) but he had not once mentioned her 'inferior heritage' nor had he called her a 'Mudblood'.

She glanced right to study him. With his woollen hat on that covered his distinctive Malfoy hair and his nose pink from the cold he almost looked like a regular seventeen year old boy. Not a stuck-up aristocrat with a Death Eater for a father who, supposedly, hated her and everyone she loved. He looked normal and even quite attractive. She turned her face downwards and watched her feet so that he wouldn't see the smile on her lips and the slight blush that she now felt creeping onto her cheeks.

Draco bloody well hated the cold. He hated that he had to wear a hat that made his hair all flat, he hated that his face was stinging and red, and he really hated that he was walking around outside in his really expensive shoes. He kept quiet though.

Hermione had been so down and mopey in the library that he had suggested the only thing that he could think off, to go outside. Now he couldn't very well complain when it was his idea, especially after he looked at her and saw her smiling as she looked down at the frosted ground as she walked. His idea seemed to have done the trick so no, he wouldn't moan about the fact that his fingers were numb because he'd forgotten his gloves. He would just put his hands in his pockets and bear it until she seemed happy again.

He sighed inwardly at that thought. He doubted very much whether she would be truly happy again for a long time. He saw how much she was hurt by Potter and Weasley's abandonment of her and, though Draco, personally, would love it if they would remove themselves so effectively from his life, she was clearly devastated.

One thing he had to give her props for, though, was that she was becoming much more adept at hiding her emotions, not as good as Draco himself, of course, but a lot better than she used to be.

Since her argument with the Weasel in the Great Hall a week ago, there had been no more public outbursts even though there had been several opportunities. For a few days after the fight, the idiots that were the majority of Hogwarts student body had followed her around, bugging her with questions about why she wasn't speaking to the two boys anymore. But she didn't crack. She merely ignored them and cast a silencing bubble around herself. It was only at certain moments when he could see her pain, usually when they were studying and she was tired and allowed herself to drift off into her own thoughts and even then she would shake herself out of it after a few seconds and the mask would fall deftly back into place.

If Hermione was getting bugged by nosey students though, it was nothing compared to the stick that Weasley (and to a lesser degree, Potter) were getting. Since Granger had ousted them in the Great Hall as the giant asses that they are, they seemed to have been, almost, exiled from the rest of the student body. People called them names as they passed in the corridors, let doors slam back in their faces and a few brave individuals had even sent the odd stinging hex their way. Even their fellow goody two shoes Gryffindors had snubbed them so that the two boys now spent their meal times sitting alone, surrounded by blatant whispers and gossiping. Draco found it all very amusing.

Hermione had surprised him many times in the past fortnight. If he had been asked previously what her reaction would be if she ever fell out with her two best friends, he would have said that she'd fall apart, that none of the Golden Trio would ever be able to function independently. But she had proven him wrong. True, initially she had gone to pieces, the time she'd cried at him in the hallways was proof of that, but since then she had bounced back with an incredible strength. Either that or she was just a better actress than he had thought. He couldn't tell you exactly which one it was but he desperately hoped, for her sake, that it wasn't the latter.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" Hermione's voice was quiet compared to the loud wind that was whistling around them but Draco heard her perfectly. He looked towards her, slightly surprised by the question, and saw that her eyes had not left the ground. She looked nervous, as though she wasn't completely sure that she wanted to hear his answer. And, to be honest, he wasn't completely sure he could give it, both because he wasn't exactly certain and because he didn't know that he would like his own answer. So, instead, he replied with the safest explanation that he could think of.

"We made a pact," his tone was even and matter-of-fact, "and a Malfoy never breaks his word."

Hermione wondered whether Draco realised what she had noticed lately, that he quoted from the 'Guide to being a Malfoy' whenever he was feeling uncomfortable. She supposed that it was probably a defence mechanism that he had developed over the years but she decided not to push the matter.

"Well, thank you," she responded. "Merlin knows I need someone to be kind to me at the moment."

"Right, that's it!" Malfoy stopped walking and turned towards Hermione, taking hold of her arm and spinning her round to face him. The look of surprise was evident on her face but his behaviour wasn't threatening or aggressive, merely assertive, so she didn't feel the need to back away, "What the Hell happened between you and those idiots? Potter is the embodiment of everything Gryffindor. He's the most annoyingly heroic and self-sacrificing person I've ever met and I can't understand why he has suddenly turned into a gigantic arse. And Weasley! Don't even get me started on him. He called you a Mudblood! What the Hell has gotten in to them both?"

When he had finished his little rant, Draco was breathing slightly heavily from anger and his annoyance was evident. He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts and seemed to realise suddenly that he had just gone off on one. He looked into Hermione's face and saw she was just as surprised by his words as he was. True, he had been dying to know what had happened between the Golden Trio but he was usually much more in control of his emotions than that. What was it about Hermione Granger that always made him lose his cool? He looked down and realised that he was still grasping her arm so released her, hoping that he hadn't gripped too hard.

"Well, maybe your prejudices aren't true," Hermione's voice was low and Draco was sure he could hear the strain that accompanied trying to hold back tears. "Apparently he wasn't as heroic and self-sacrificing as you thought." She turned away from him and continued on the path they had just been walking. As he watched her retreating form a shiver ran down his back that he wasn't sure was from the cold. While he watched her walk away, she lifted her hand to her face and he realised that she had lost her battle to control her tears.

He jogged to catch up with her and when he drew level he kept his eyes forward, not wanting her to be embarrassed that he had seen her cry once again. "Well your prejudices are wrong as well, you know."

He continued speaking as though there had been no gap in their conversation and Hermione stopped walking, turning towards him with a confused look, "I don't have any prejudices," she insisted, "I have a very open mind towards others."

"Oh really?" Draco replied. "You think that because I am a Slytherin and my father's son then I am destined to follow in his footsteps and become a Death Eater." Hermione froze; the last time they had spoken about these things was several weeks ago when Malfoy had stormed out of the library. Their recent truce had seemed dependent on neither of them mentioning certain topics, including his family and Lord Voldemort, and she was incredibly surprised to hear him bringing them up now after a week of relative peace. "You believe that I will devote my life to the Dark Lord and my future will include murdering Muggles and Muggleborns like you. But you are wrong."

At these words, he turned and walked away and this time it was Hermione who was stood staring at a retreating back, trying to take in his recent revelation.

* * *

Neither Hermione nor Draco got much sleep that night and, unbeknownst to them, they were both lay staring the ceilings above their respective beds at the exact same moment, each in deep thought about the other.

Hermione glanced left to where her wand was resting on her bedside table projecting luminous numbers into the dark, showing her the time.

2:04 a.m.

She sighed deeply. Her body and mind were exhausted, her eyes stinging from being open so long and her muscles aching from walking around the Hogwarts grounds for almost four hours that afternoon, but she still could not sleep. Her mind simply refused to turn off and rest. Now, unsurprisingly, this was a problem that was quite common in the life of Hermione Granger. When one has a mind as alert and active as hers, it can occasionally prove to be more of an annoyance than a benefit, particularly during times that required intense contemplation. An example of these times would be during the first few days back at school, which seemed so long ago now but was a mere fortnight, after Harry and Ron's 'change of heart'. Those nights she got very little sleep as she tried, in vain, to decipher their actions and come up with a reasonable explanation for their behaviour. Since her row with Ron in the Great Hall, however, her mind seemed to be appeased and her sleep cycle had become more normal again.

Except for tonight.

This time her thoughts were not on her ex-friends but rather a certain blond-haired boy who was slowly bringing her to the realisation that she did not have everything figured out, and that not everyone fit perfectly into the box her mind had designed for them.

In Hermione's exceptionally organised mind, she had categorised everyone she knew into groups. Her Mum and Dad, Grandparents etc were, of course, family. She had recently learned, though, that this group was the only one that did not change. For years, Harry and Ron had been the Best Friends, the ones she could rely on and trust no matter what. This had all gone to Hell a few weeks ago and now she didn't know where they were. She didn't want them to be Enemies because part of her (the extremely tiny, irrational part) was hoping that they would change their mind and come back to her. For the time being she filed the boys under Unknown.

Now, this change was one that, of course, had taken a great deal of heartbreak and time to get used to but she thought that (after her initial breakdown) she was handling it very well. The second change, on the other hand, was much more perplexing. Draco Malfoy had always, since the moment that she had first heard him speak while they were waiting to be sorted, been an Enemy, second only to Lord Voldemort. He was obnoxious, stuck-up, a future Death Eater and, above all, he hated her and everyone like her for no other reason than the family she was born into. But recently he seemed to be changing.

He was no longer obnoxious for a start. Over the past week, they had been spending time together every day working on their assignment, and he not only wasn't rude and insulting but was actually quite pleasant. He loaned her his ink pot when she had left hers in her room, he always made sure he had left her enough space on their table to work in, and he had not once called her a Mudblood. Now, these probably seem like fairly minor things. Common courtesies that you would expect from a stranger, let alone someone you had known for over six years. But coming from Draco Malfoy these were giant leaps, small acts of kindness that went a huge distance to bridge the gap that had formed between them since they had met.

Secondly, he wasn't even as stuck-up as he once was. True, he still held himself with an aristocratic grace but she couldn't expect him to lose that after the seventeen years of upbringing that he had received. But today, when they were outside walking in the cold he did not complain once, even though she had noticed that he'd forgotten his gloves. He didn't moan about his hair getting squashed from wearing a hat or his face stinging from the wind. He actually looked very inelegant for once and Hermione had to admit that she kind of liked it. He looked rugged and rather attractive.

It was his revelation, though, that was the main focus of her mind. His confession that he had no intention of following Lord Voldemort had shaken her world the most. She had never had any doubt that Malfoy would become a Death Eater and so the idea that he might not was an alien concept to her. She realised, with a start, that this was probably the reason that he had reacted so violently to her implication that he would the week before. She guessed, correctly, that his father probably had no idea of his change of mind and for the first time considered that Draco was most likely in a very dangerous situation. From the few times that she had met Lucius Malfoy, she got the impression that, though he held his son in a high regard, there was very little love there and she had little doubt that his allegiance would be to his Dark Lord over his only child.

This thought made Hermione's heart melt. Her parents had always made it clear how much they loved her and that they would do anything for her. She couldn't understand how someone could care so little about their son.

Hermione looked at the time again and saw that it was now 3:29am. She sighed deeply and turned onto her right side, pulling one of her pillows down so that she could cuddle into it.

No, she thought, Malfoy definitely wasn't an 'Enemy' anymore but was damned if she could work out what he was.

* * *

Draco glanced right to where his wand was resting on his bedside table projecting luminous numbers into the dark, showing him the time.

2:04am

He sighed and returned his gaze to the ceiling above him, tracing with his eyes the slight crack in the paintwork. Draco wasn't used to this. He usually had no problems at all drifting off to sleep. He had learned from a very young age to distance himself from some of the things that went on around him. He had learnt this lesson the hard way when he was five years old and, while looking for his dad, had wandered down to his father's basement potions lab and found him torturing some man that Draco had never seen with the Cruciatus curse. Lucius had shouted at him to get out and, distraught, he had run to his bedroom and cried until his pillowcases were wet.

An hour later, his father had come in to see him. He had sat down on Draco's bed and told him that sometimes adults had to do things that they didn't like but Malfoy's were good at this because they were very strong and could ignore the feelings that came with the act. He had ordered the young Draco not to cry anymore and told him that he was never to speak of what he saw.

Draco never found out the name of the man in the potions lab and he never went down to the basement uninvited again, but he learned his lesson. He learned how to distance himself from the external world and not think about things that could make him feel guilty or bad. Therefore, when he found himself unable to shut off the world around him and sleep that night, he was surprised. Something that had once been so easy for him was now suddenly difficult and he couldn't seem to draw his thoughts away from a certain brunette and everything he had said and done to her over the years. True, he didn't necessarily feel guilt over the way he had treated her but he was beginning to see her in a different light.

He didn't know what had possessed him to tell Hermione what he hadn't told anybody else. In that moment, it had seemed the right thing to say to her to calm her down. She had been crying and he had simply blurted out the only thing that he could think of to make her stop. Why he had cared enough about her being upset to try and make her feel better was something he was avoiding thinking about because he was fairly sure he wasn't going to like the answer.

In all truth, it had been killing him to not be able to talk about what he had decided. It was such a huge decision that was going to affect his whole life and he had been keeping it to himself for months now. It was really not surprising that it was going to come out eventually and, in all fairness, he had probably admitted it to the best possible person. Granger was quite possibly the only person in the world that he could talk to about his upcoming change of allegiance. She was so damn good that he knew she wouldn't tell anyone else and he couldn't risk this information getting back to Lucius. There was no doubt in his mind which side his father would choose if it came down to either his Dark Lord or his son, and Draco was almost certain that Voldemort would appreciate the irony of having his most faithful servant kill his own child for the cause.

As it stood, Draco was trapped. He had gone over in his mind a million ways in which he could turn against the Dark Lord and survive, but each one seemed as unlikely as the last. In fact, the only idea that seemed halfway feasible was for him to run away and never come back. But even that plan had its flaws, the least of which was that he wouldn't be able to use his magic anymore for fears that they could track it. As a boy who had relied a great deal on his magic for his whole life, he wasn't sure that he could live without it. For now he was simply biding his time until after his graduation when he was due to receive the Mark, in the hopes that solution would present itself.

Against his will, Draco's thoughts wandered back to Hermione. After his announcement that afternoon, she hadn't said anything. She had caught up to him after a few moments and they had continued walking around the grounds, in a relatively comfortable silence, for several more hours, neither of them remembering that they had come outside in the first place to gather material to practice their transfigurations on. Despite her hush, he could tell that Hermione was dying to ask him a million questions about what he had said but she refrained, instead deciding to keep her mouth shut. He had both appreciated and resented this.

The question once again plagued his mind, as he continued to stare at the ceiling, about what had made him tell her in the first place. Granted, she had changed a lot over the past few weeks, though he wasn't sure she was even aware of it. She was more guarded and in control of her feelings, a trait that any Malfoy admired, but there was also something else. It was as though her recent experiences had made her stronger, not physically but emotionally. She held herself with more confidence, as though she were suddenly being forced to rely on her own strength rather than on others. Draco sighed; this was something he understood, having to depend on oneself, and he respected her for it.

It had surprised him how easy he had found it to get along with her over the last week. He hadn't found her anywhere near as infuriating as he once did and discovered that he would actually look forward to their study sessions together. He supposed that it wasn't very often that he got to spend time with an intellectual equal and was merely appreciating it.

_That's a lie and you know it._

The voice in his head sounded suspiciously familiar though he couldn't work out who it belonged to.

_You're using this 'intellectual equal' crap as a justification that you are not just looking forward to your study sessions but you are looking forward to seeing __**her.**_

Draco sat bolt upright in his bed, his eyes wide with shock. Where the bloody hell did that come from?

No, he didn't have feelings for Hermione Granger. He couldn't.

Could he?

True, he found her much more agreeable to be around and today when she was sad he had felt his stomach do a somersault. He also found it a lot more difficult to control his emotions when he was with her, which was evident from both his little outburst during their walk and his spur-of-the-moment confession. He had even caught himself counting down the hours to their study sessions and even to Transfiguration (which he hated) when he would be able to see her. He had told himself that he merely enjoyed the conversation and the banter but was it possible that he could actually have fallen for her?

"But she's a Mudblood," he said these words out loud, and was glad that he had cast a silencing charm around his bed to block out the sound of Crabbe's snoring, but he was shocked to find that the usual feelings of disgust that normally accompanied that word were not present.

Draco slowly lay back down, resting against his pillows. Even if he did have feelings for her it could never be. It went against everything he had ever been taught and just because he wasn't willing to join Voldemort anymore didn't mean he completely disagreed with him.

_I've got to put a stop to this. _

Draco nodded into the darkness. He would have to stop being so friendly to her. They would just have to get this damn project over with and then he could move on, but in the meantime he would push her away. Go back to being cruel. He couldn't let himself become any more attached.

Draco looked at the time again and saw that it was now 3:29am. He sighed deeply and turned onto his left side, pulling one of him pillows down so that he could cuddle into it.

As he closed his eyes, he was fairly certain that he would get no sleep tonight and instead tried fiercely to ignore the little voice in the back of his head that told him that his plan wasn't going to work.

**A/N There you go. Hope you all liked it. Please review and let me know what you thought.**

**Thanks**

**xxx**


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